


Can We Learn to Love Again

by CharlotteAshmore



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia (possibly temporary), Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Rebuilding Relationship, Smut, When do I not write a happy ending?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-03-30 18:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 71,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3947518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlotteAshmore/pseuds/CharlotteAshmore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Dark One is removed from his host, Rumpelstiltskin wakes with no memory of his previous life … or Belle.  She sets out to help him adjust to life in Storybrooke with a clean slate.  Is he lost to her forever or can she help him learn to love again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: We don't own ouat or anything remotely affiliated with it. This is just for fun :D
> 
> I was re-watching 02x19 "Lacey" today, and I think it would be pretty cool if Rumple lost his memories after releasing the dark one. It would almost be like he was being rebooted. He wouldn't know Belle, but he would be drawn to her, and they could fall in love all over again.
> 
> \- xxxEtherealWishesxxx
> 
> A/N: This is the first fic we’re writing together and we really hope you enjoy it. It will be posted on FFnet under Ethereal Wishes’s profile and on AO3 under CharlotteAshmore’s profile. We will be taking prompts during the writing process, so if you have an idea or a plot twist you would like to see used in this story, please PM either of us and we’ll be happy to work it in. Thanks!!

 

          “Gone?” Belle gasped, staring up at the Charmings, Regina and Robin from where she sat on the polished wood floor of the pawnshop, Rumpelstiltskin’s head cradled protectively in her lap.  “What do you mean Emma’s gone?”

          “It means that whatever that old man sucked out of him,” Charming growled, pointing an accusing finger at the unconscious Rumpelstiltskin lying prone on the floor, “Emma tethered herself to it to prevent it from consuming the town!”

          “David,” Snow said gently, laying a restraining hand on her husband’s arm.  “Yelling at Belle isn’t going to help matters any.”

          Belle shrank back a bit, her body curling defensively around Rumpelstiltskin’s prone form as Killian barged through the front door of the shop, the Dark One’s dagger clutched fiercely in his right hand.  He pointed it at her, his beryl eyes blazing with fury.  “Look!” he demanded as if it were somehow her fault.  “Look at it!  The demon has my Emma now.  The old man sucked it out of the crocodile and now it’s claimed a new victim.  How do we get it out of her?”

          She gaped up at him incredulously, her eyes flashing hotly.  “How should I know?”

          Regina arched a condescending brow at her.  “You’re married to the man who held that curse for more than three centuries.  No one knows more about the Dark One than you, bookworm.  If anyone can give us some insight as to how we can remove the curse from Emma, it will be you.”

          Belle snorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm.  “Of course, your majesty, I know _everything_ about the Dark One because my husband is such a giving man.  He told me all there was to know about his curse on our honeymoon.”

          Robin nudged Regina, his arm slipping about her waist.  “There’s no need to antagonize the poor woman, Regina.”

          The former queen rolled her eyes impatiently.  Snow tugged on Charming’s sleeve and got him moving towards the back room.  “Come on.  Perhaps the apprentice can give us some information other than ‘you need to find the sorcerer’,” she murmured, her voice lowering an octave as she imitated his deep baritone.  “Regina!” came her cry a moment later, shrill and pleading.

          The ebony haired sorceress hurried through the curtain, Robin at her heels, at Snow’s panicked cry, leaving Killian with Belle.  “Surely you know more than you’re telling us, luv,” the pirate snarled, teeth bared as he sank down to one knee beside her.

          Belle didn’t deign to look at him, focusing instead on the man in her lap, her fingers carding gently through his soft hair.  “I know just as much as the rest of you do.  He was controlled by the dagger, he was immortal, he had a penchant for deal-making –though I don’t know whether that was the curse or simply one of his own quirks – and there was no way to pass the curse to another unless he was killed with the dagger.  I can’t tell you more, because I don’t know anything more,” she insisted, wishing they’d all leave her alone with her husband.  The frown marring her brow furrowed a little deeper.  “He looks pale,” she murmured distractedly.  “Doesn’t he look a bit pale to you?”

          “I couldn’t care less if the crocodile is pale or not!”  He shot to his feet and paced away from her, realizing she was going to be no help to him even if she did hold all the answers.

          “You will be able to summon her eventually, Killian,” Belle said, her voice soft.  She wasn’t sure if Rumpelstiltskin could hear her or not under the stasis like spell that had been cast over him, but if he could he wouldn’t appreciate yelling in his shop … unless, of course, he were the one doing the yelling.  “Baelfire and I had a lot of time to talk last year when we were trapped in the Enchanted Forest.  He said after Rumpel took on the curse, he disappeared for several days to give his body time to adjust.  Be patient, Killian.  Give her time and then summon her to you.”

          The pirate looked down at the wavy blade, his love’s name emblazoned in bold black letters on its surface.  “And she’ll have no choice but to comply?”

          “Yes.”

          “We have a problem,” Regina said, her mouth twisted into a grimace as she emerged from the back room, the others following behind her.  David held his cellphone to his ear, speaking in hushed tones.  “The apprentice is dead.”

          “Well, that’s just bloody fantastic!” Hook sneered, slamming his hand down against one of the display cases.  His temper earned him a glower from Belle.  “The old man dead, Rumpelstiltskin incapacitated,” he stated, waving a hand in the mage’s general direction.  “What the hell are we supposed to do now?  How are we supposed to help Emma?”

          “Regina can help,” Snow said confidently.  “She helped Emma tap into her magic before.  I’m sure she can do it again.”

          Regina bristled, shifting restlessly.  “As much as I’d like to say I could, I don’t think I’ll be able to do it this time.  I don’t know anything about the Dark One aside from what is general knowledge.  We need firsthand experience with the darkness and with the apprentice gone … and until we can track down the sorcerer who created it …”

          Belle sighed and held her husband a little more closely, his head pillowed comfortably against her bosom.  “We need Rumpel.”

~*X*~

 

    The coroner came and removed the apprentice’s body from the shop, much to Belle’s relief.  She then had David and Robin remove the cot from the back room.  She couldn’t imagine that Rumpelstiltskin would wish to keep it after it had served as someone’s deathbed.  She was a bit sorry to see it go, however, as she remembered all the lovely afternoons she’d spent with her love curled up in his arms on that very cot.  It would have to be replaced, perhaps with something a bit more comfortable this time.

          Regina closed the door and flipped the sign to closed – not that it had ever kept anyone from barging in – and turned to face Belle where she was seated on the floor, still petting her husband as if she had nothing better to do.  She’d convinced the others to go back to the diner, leaving the Charmings to explain to Henry of what had transpired.  It didn’t sit well with the former queen, but she knew she was needed here.  She would have happily left Rumpelstiltskin in his coma-like state indefinitely, but she had to do everything in her power to help Emma.

          “What are we going to tell him … about what was done to him?” Belle asked, casting her worried gaze up at Regina.

          She shrugged.  “We might not need to tell him anything.  He may already know.”  Her brow furrowed.  “After living with the curse for so many centuries, he should be able to tell, don’t you think?”  She pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting the pressure building behind her eyes.  “You would think during all that time he spent alone in that castle he could have written a book or something … Everything You Always Wanted to Know about the Dark One but Were Afraid to Ask.”

          Belle snorted.  “As if he’d ever make it that easy.”

          “Alright, let’s get this over with,” she huffed.  “You ready?”

          Belle nodded and tightened her grip on him, not knowing what to expect, but she didn’t want him to fall back and hit his head or cause himself injury.  Regina’s brow furrowed in concentration and with a quick flick of her wrist, a warm golden glow enveloped him, and Belle could feel the magic of the stasis spell release him.

          Regina dropped down to her knees on his other side and peered curiously at him when he made no signs of waking.  Belle frowned and patted his cheek.  “Rum?  Rumpel?”

          “Come on, imp; wake up!” Regina snarled, poking him in the chest.  “We need your help.”

          Belle swatted her hand away.  “Stop poking him!  He’s not a bloody piñata.  He -” Her scolding broke off as her husband moaned, his brows drawing together darkly over his closed eyes.

          “He’s waking up,” Regina said, stating the obvious.  Belle rolled her eyes.  “Gold!  Gold, can you hear me?”

          “How can he not with your shouting?  Rum?” Belle asked, cradling his face in her hand as her thumb brushed gently over his cheek.  “Rumpel, it’s alright.”

          His eyes opened warily, the sable orbs flitting back and forth between the two women.  He stared at them for all of two seconds before he sat up and scrambled away from them, his back slamming against the glass display case.  He pointed one long finger in their direction.  “W-Who are you?”

          Belle mouth fell open in surprise, her brows disappearing somewhere near her hairline.  Regina’s face screwed up in irritation.  “Stop playing games, Gold.  You know exactly who we are.”

          “I’ve never seen either of you before in my life!” he insisted, wincing as he tried to lever himself off the floor and pain throbbed to life in his leg

          “Easy,” Belle said, inching towards him and resting a reassuring hand on his ankle, her thumb pressing quickly into a spot that usually relieved the pain.

          “How did you know -?” he asked, caution and more than a little fear in his gaze as his eyes met hers.  He sucked in a deep breath at the clear blue of her eyes, unable to grasp the reason why she was looking at him with such tenderness.

          “Of course she would know,” Regina replied irritably, “she’s your –“

          “- Caretaker.  I’m Belle, your caretaker,” she said firmly, casting Regina a telling look, warning not to say more evident in her stare.  He relaxed a bit as her thumb continued to work at his throbbing ankle, but no recognition flared as he stared back at her suspiciously.  “This is Regina Mills, our mayor.”

          “What happened?  Why can’t I remember anything?” he asked, allowing her to help him off the floor while Regina fetched his gold handled cane from the umbrella stand near the door.

          Belle searched her mind frantically for an excuse for his memory loss before Regina could stick her foot in it.  It was apparent they wouldn’t be able to tell him of his magic or who he really was.  He’d never believe them and would no doubt think them crazy if they tried.  “It’s ok, Rumpel.  You were fetching something off the shelf over there and fell.  You hit your head and blacked out.  I’m sure your memories will come back to you soon.”

    “And you’re my caretaker?” he asked, his lilting brogue that was usually music to her ears, filled with doubt.  “Why would I need a caretaker?”

          She smiled sadly at him, fighting back a bevy of tears, and squeezed his hand.  “You know I’ve asked myself that same question quite often,” she teased.  “Suffice it to say, you’re a very busy man and it is my pleasure to assist you, hm?”

          Regina tugged on her sleeve.  “Can I have a word with you, Miss _French,_ ” she asked, following along with the ruse.  She turned on the petite brunette as soon as they were safe from being overheard.  “What are we supposed to do now?  He doesn’t know who he is, who you are and he certainly doesn’t know what the Dark One is.  How is he going to help Emma?”

          “We don’t know that he’s going to remain this way, Regina.  There’s a chance he’ll come out of this with his memories intact.  We just need to find a way to make him remember.”  Belle glanced over Regina’s shoulder to where her husband was looking around his shop, his fingers caressing various objects.  He looked confused and wary and it pained her to see him at such a loss.  “Just … I don’t know!  Just give me time, alright?”

          “Do you think he has magic?  If he has magic and no memories of how to use it … Belle that is a dangerous combination.”

          She bit her lip thoughtfully, her gaze wandering back to him as it always did when they were in the same room together, to find him watching her curiously.  She smiled reassuringly and he turned back to exploring his trinkets.  “I’ll be careful.  I’ve got a multitude of books at the house.  I’ll start pouring through them immediately to see if there is a magical means of bringing his memory back.”  Her eyes narrowed on the queen.  “If there’s not, Regina …”

          “Are you threatening me, bookworm?” Regina asked, leaning in to try to intimidate the smaller woman.

          Belle’s smirk was reminiscent of the Dark One and just as menacing.  “I don’t have to threaten you, Regina.  If you try to hurt my husband, I _promise_ you there will be no place to hide from my wrath.”  She gestured towards the door, her voice rising in pitch.  “I’m terribly sorry about that item you were interested in.  It’s late.  If you come back tomorrow, I’m certain I can have it boxed and ready for you.”

          Regina huffed all the way to the door and yanked it open, calling over her shoulder, “See that you do!”

          Belle rolled her eyes and disappeared behind the counter to grab her keys and purse, unable to bite back a grin as Rumpelstiltskin snarked, “Is she always that pleasant?”

          “Of course not.  Sometimes she’s much worse,” she chuckled.  His lips twitched, but the smile never reached his eyes.  “Come on, Rumpel, let’s get you home,” she said, leading him towards the side door and outside to where the Cadillac was parked.

          He waited until they were both inside and driving towards the pink Victorian before he asked, “Why do you call me ‘Rumpel’?  Surely, that can’t be my name?”

          The color drained from her face as she realized she’d already made a mistake.  Her fingers tapped rapidly on the steering wheel as she wracked her mind as to how she’d fix her slip up.  “It’s just a nickname, Mr. Gold.  You … ah … you’re very fastidious about your wardrobe,” she said, waving a hand towards his suit.  “One morning, you were complaining about your jacket looking rumpled and I teased you about it.  The name just stuck.”

          “And I didn’t fire you?”

 

          She snorted.  “You wouldn’t dream of it.  I’m the only one who knows how to properly prepare your tea.”

          He breathed a short laugh and shook his head as they pulled into the driveway.  “No one else calls me that, I hope.”

          “No, dar –“ She caught herself just in time.  “No. No one but me.” Or at least no one would once she got the word around.  She needed to begin compiling a list for Regina.  She cut the engine and reached for the handle, only then noticing the confusion knitted on his brow.  “Is something wrong?”

          “I live here?  It’s pink.  Why do I live in a pink house?”

          She couldn’t hide her laughter over his horrified expression, though she raised her hand to cover her smiling lips.  Her shoulders shook with it.  “I-It’s not pink,” she giggled.  “It’s salmon.”

          “It’s bloody well pink!” he grumbled.  “Call the painters tomorrow and have them come out with samples.”

          Her mirth fled in an instant.  “But –“

          “You work for me, do you not?” he asked, throwing open his door and ambling from the car.

          “Yes, of course, but, Rum –“

          “No buts!” he said, making his way to the front steps.  “I will not live in a pink house.”

          Belle hurried after him before he could snap at her about unlocking the door.  She didn’t know how to interpret his mood at the moment and it worried her.  She watched him avidly as he stepped over the threshold and closed his eyes, breathing deeply of what should have been familiar smells, even though he hadn’t stepped foot in their home in almost three months.  Gods, how she wished he could remember their life there.  She wished he could remember and know the demon could no longer stand between them.  She wished so many things and couldn’t dare take the chance of voicing a single one of them.

          He startled from his reverie as her hands came to rest on his shoulders, grasping his coat and dragging it from his stiff frame.  She hung it on the coat rack next to the door and quickly shucked her own.  “Would you like me to make you some tea?” she asked, moving off down the hall to the kitchen.  She was almost certain if he were in his right mind he would want something a bit more fortifying, but she wasn’t feeling brave enough to offer him spirits.

          “Tea would be nice,” he murmured, his eyes taking in his surroundings as he followed after her.  “We’ll need to call a cleaning service as well, it seems.”

          She’d just reached for the kettle, and it hit the bottom of the sink with a loud thunk.  “W-What?”

          “I may not remember who I am, dearie, but it’s clear that the junk in the rooms we passed needs to be cleared away.  It would be better used at the shop you claim belongs to me instead of here in my home.”

          Belle’s mouth gaped open and it took her a moment to recover and fill the kettle with water from the tap and set it on the stove.  She nodded as she went to the pantry and removed a small box of tea, preparing the china pot.  “I’ll make the call,” she said, her voice no more than a pained whisper.  Her eyes followed him as he moved about the kitchen, familiarizing himself with his home, just as he’d done at the shop.

          It was while he was doing this that she noticed his guard slip just a notch and the fear in his eyes nearly crippled her.  He stood at the center island, his hand tight about the handle of his cane as his chin dipped towards his chest and the soft waves of his hair slipped over his eyes to obscure him from her vision.  She ignored her tea-making preparations and went to him, throwing her arms about his neck and holding tightly to him should he try to back away.

          “It’s ok, Rumpel.  I’m here,” she whispered brokenly.  “You’re safe with me, I promise.”

~*X*~

          The tension radiating from him was enough to snap his spine in half, his grip on the gold handle of his cane leaving him with white knuckles and no doubt the imprint of the intricate carving on his palm.  She felt so soft, so … right in his arms and he couldn’t imagine why.  Why couldn’t he remember her?  Why couldn’t he remember _anything_ , for that matter?  He’d heard somewhere, he was sure, that one could suffer amnesia from a bump to the head, but he’d never thought it could happen to him.

          He trembled beneath her touch as she pressed her warm body against his and fought to keep himself from responding accordingly.  He wasn’t used to having beautiful women fawn over him.  He didn’t need to remember who he was to know that basic truth.  He managed to clear his throat of the unwanted emotions sweeping through him as he eased her away from him.  “Miss – What am I supposed to call you again?”

          She wasn’t quite as adept at controlling her emotions as he was and she swiped at a tear which had managed to spill over her lashes.  “Belle.  No ‘miss’ in front of it either.  Just Belle.  It’s the only thing I’ll answer to,” she stated brazenly.  “So you might as well get used to it.”

          He watched her warily as she moved off to remove the whistling kettle from the stove, not entirely sure how to take her.  She seemed confident as she moved about the kitchen, as if she were more than a little familiar with it and it seemed odd to him.  “Do you spend much time here in my home?” he asked, unable to bite back the question dancing at the tip of his tongue.

          “It’s my home too, Rumpel,” she said, pouring the water into the china pot over the leaves so it could steep the proper amount of time.  “As your caretaker, I care for your home, work in the shop, help you maintain the books and inventory, schedule your appointments, and various other tasks.  I am always with you, so don’t worry about anything, alright?  You won’t have to do this alone.”

          “Here?” he sputtered.  “You live here … with me?  Isn’t that rather damaging to your reputation to live here alone with a man who isn’t your husband?”

          _Oh, my darling, if you only knew._  “I don’t give a fig what the rest of the town thinks.  You pay very well and I happen to enjoy working for you.”  She made a mental note to call Marco in the morning to see if he could fill in for her at the library.  There was no way she was going to unleash Rumpelstiltskin on Storybrooke with no memories.  There was no telling what someone might say to him and if he still possessed magic … she shuddered.  There would be an outbreak of snails roaming the streets.

          He sat on the stool at the island at her urging and watched her closely as she poured a cup of tea for him and set it before him.  “The cup is chipped,” he said, frowning up at her.  “Why is my cup chipped?”  Judging from his home and the expensive suit that swathed his wiry frame, he could afford china that wouldn’t cut his lip.

          Her eyes filled with tears and her lower lip disappeared between her pearly teeth as she added sugar to her own cup.  “I-I … it’s always been the one you preferred.  I’ll get another one down if you like.”

          He stared down at the cup, wondering why he would wish to drink from the damaged porcelain.  His head throbbed unmercifully as he concentrated.  He knew it was important to him for some reason, but he couldn’t seem to grasp hold of the memory just out of his reach.  He turned it in his hands, letting the heat of the brew inside warm his hands as he took a tentative sip.  She hadn’t been lying when she’d bragged on her tea-making skills.  “I’m sure this will be fine for now.  No sense in dirtying another cup.  In future, however, I’d like one with a little less wear to it.”

          Belle went to the pantry and brought out some scones she’d baked the day before, taking a few moments to gain control over her ragged breathing before setting them before him.  She didn’t know when he might have eaten last.  “Are you hungry?  If this doesn’t satisfy your appetite, I have some leftover mushroom alfredo in the refrigerator.”

          “This is fine,” he answered, biting into the flavorful pastry and savoring the small bits of raspberries and blueberries as he chewed.  “I think I’d just like to go to bed.”  He glanced up at the clock near the kitchen door where it hung upon the wall next to a dry erase board.  “It’s rather late.”

          He finished off two scones and drained his cup before he rose from the stool to follow her upstairs.  What had possessed him to buy a two story house, he wondered, his ankle giving a little throb of protest as he traversed the stairs.  She led him to the master suite, pushing the door wide so he could enter behind her.  She cast him a reassuring smile as she moved to the dresser and removed a pair of clean pajamas, laying them out of the bed for him before she moved to the door.

          Gold glanced down at his hands resting on the handle of his cane as she bid him goodnight.  “I’m the next door down … if you should need me for anything.  There are fresh towels in the bathroom,” she said, pointing to the door on the far wall.  “Your alarm will ring at seven and breakfast is at eight.”  She bit her lip as if she were trying to stop herself from saying something more.  “Goodnight, Rumpel.”

          “Belle?” he called to her before she could pull the door closed behind him.

          Her eyes were bright and sparkling with hope as she looked back at him.  “Yes?”

          “Why are you here?  I … I mean … why did I hire you?  Am I really not capable of looking after myself?” he asked, unsure of himself with no memory of his life to fall back on.

          She smiled sadly.  “I think you were lonely,” she repeated the words she’d said to him so long ago and her heart ached with bitterness that he couldn’t remember.  “It’s all worked out for the best and I’m sure you’ll agree once your memory returns.”

          He watched her go, the door latch clicking ominously, leaving him only with the faint trace of her perfume and an empty mind.  What the hell was he supposed to do now?

~*X*~

          Belle trekked down the hall and entered her room.  After she’d banished him from Storybrooke, she hadn’t been able to sleep in the bed she’d shared with him any longer.  In a fit of pique, she’d removed every trace of herself from their room and moved into the guest room next to it.  She didn’t know if it was a bit of foresight or just fate, but now she was glad she had done it.  How would she have been able to explain why her things were in his room?

          Hot salty tears flowed unchecked over her ashen cheeks as she numbly removed her clothes and pulled on one of her husband’s t-shirts and soft cotton pajama pants.  It was what she’d worn every night since he’d left and she didn’t see the sense in changing that now.  It had made her feel closer to him as she’d lain in bed night after night wishing she could summon him back to her.  She hadn’t been sure whether or not she wanted to apologize or yell at him more for his trickery.  All she did know was that she’d wanted him to come back.

          She climbed under the cornflower blue duvet and buried her face in the pillow, sobs wracking her petite form as she curled in on herself.  She barely heard the buzzing of her cell phone where she’d left it on the bedside table when she’d disrobed.  “Hello?” she choked out, trying to keep her voice down so Rumpelstiltskin wouldn’t overhear her anguish.

          “Belle?”

          “Henry!  Have the others located your mom?” she asked, brushing at her tears.

          She could hear him sigh over the line.  “No, not yet.  Grandma, Grandpa, Mom, Robin and Killian are out looking for her while I keep an eye on Roland.  Belle, they told me what happened to Grandpa Rumpel.  Is he ok?  Does he remember anything yet?”

          “No,” she wailed pitifully.  “He wants to paint the house …” *sniff* “… and have all his trinkets removed from the parlor and living room and brought to the shop …” *sob* “… and he doesn’t remember our chipped cupppppp!”

          “Belle …” she heard over the line as she covered her face with the pillow.  “Grandma?  It’ll be ok.  You know nothing can ever keep my grandpa down.  He’ll remember.”

          “What if he doesn’t?”


	2. Chapter 2

 

Belle pounded her pillow with her small fist, her shriek of outrage muffled in the silk covered down. She reached out blindly on the nightstand in search of the offending alarm clock, blinking blearily when her hand came in contact with a lamp which shouldn't have been there. She looked around owlishly, reality intruding on her state between waking and dreaming. 

 

She’d cried for hours after she’d gotten off the phone with Henry and – unable to sleep without visions of the darkness leaving her husband’s heart intruding – had trekked downstairs to collect every text on magic she could find.  She’d figured it would be safer if Rumpel couldn’t come across them until after his memory had returned.  She’d started pouring over them, searching for some clue as to how to reverse the magical memory loss.  Sleep hadn’t claimed her until nearly daybreak and she was feeling the effects of worry and lack of rest.  She rolled over with an aggravated sigh and felt the corner of one of her books dig into her hip.

 

That wasn’t alarming, however.  It wasn’t the first time she’d woken to find herself surrounded by books.  Belle’s eyes widened in terror when she realized the shrill tone she’d thought was her alarm clock was actually the smoke alarm hanging on the wall in the kitchen.  She threw back the covers, her feet hitting the thick Persian rug covering the hardwood at a run.  She didn’t even remember opening her door as she pelted towards the stairs on her bare feet.

 

She arrived in the kitchen to find her husband standing over the stove, beating at the fire in his pan with a singed dish towel.  “Oh Rumpel!” she cried, running to the back door and throwing it open, the crisp spring breeze a welcome respite from the smoke filling the heart of their home.

 

“I’m sorry!” he said, ducking his head sheepishly, refusing to meet her eyes as he continued to try to put out the fire.  She retrieved a clean dish towel from the drawer next to the stove and covered her mouth and nose with it, the stench of burned eggs, onions and cheese heavy in the air.  “I was just trying to make breakfast.”

 

Belle took the pan from him and dumped it into the sink, dousing it with cold water as she opened up the tap.  It hissed like a dying chimera as she made her way across the room to fan at the smoke alarm.  When it didn’t quiet quickly enough to suit her sleep-deprived mind, she went to the pantry and grabbed the broom, whacking it several times before it whined in protest and went silent, the entire device hanging limply from its innards.

 

Rumpel stared at her bemusedly and she was quick to try to reassure him.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll have Dove replace it while we’re out today.  What possessed you to try your hand at cooking this morning?” she asked, covering her mouth with her hand as she let out a violent cough.

 

“I was hungry,” he answered simply.  “Let me guess … I don’t cook?”

 

“Not even a little.”  She wanted to kick herself as she saw the lines about his mouth tighten with displeasure.  “Wait, I take that back.  You can make tea and toast.”

 

“Dearie, I doubt there’s a person alive who can’t make that,” he admitted with a wry smirk.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, yawning widely.  “I’ll have the cleaning service take care of the mess when they arrive.  It was then she noticed his tie had been scorched as well as the dish towel.  “Oh, Rumpel,” she said, reaching for him, brushing at the singed edges of the paisley purple tie about his neck.  “This was your favorite and now it’s ruined.”

 

He waved a dismissive hand and ushered her over to the door where the air streaming in was better than what still lingered in the kitchen.  He took a great lungful in and nodded when she did the same.  “It’s just a tie, dear.  Speaking of which, why is it I have no casual clothes in that immense closet upstairs.  Surely I don’t wear these suits _all_ the time.”

 

“Uh …” she faltered, staring at him as if he’d proclaimed the sky was magenta.  “I … I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything less.  Even here at the house you rarely discard your jacket before you retire in the evenings.  It’s your armor, so to speak.”

 

“Well, add it to the list of things that need to be addressed.  I can’t go through the rest of my life … memory or no … in designer suits.”  He pulled at the collar of his black silk dress shirt and grimaced.  He reached out to finger the sleeve of her t-shirt.  “I’m not saying I want to be quite that casual, but maybe a sweater or two wouldn’t be amiss.”

 

Belle’s mouth fell slack as her brows disappeared beneath her messy fringe of bangs.  “A-Are you sure, Rumpel?  I don’t think –“

 

“I insist.  I want to be comfortable … at least here at home.”  He waved an arm, gesturing her back inside as the smoke had cleared enough for them to return to the kitchen.  He took a seat on the stool at the island and reached for the tea tray he’d prepared, pouring them both a cup.  At least he hadn’t mucked that up.  “So what is on the agenda for today?”

 

Belle sat down beside him, averting her watering eyes as she noticed he’d replaced his chipped cup with one that matched the rest of their set.  “Rumpel?  What did you do with the chipped cup?”

 

“Oh, that.  I tossed it in the bin,” he mentioned casually, taking a sip of his tea.  “No use keeping something so damaged.”

 

She let out a little whimper and scurried off of her stool, diving for the bin under the sink.  She pulled it out and nearly dumped the entirety of its contents on the floor as she searched through egg shells, cheese wrappers and onion peels in her quest to find the priceless cup.  If he only knew what that cup symbolized, he’d be horrified by what he’d done.  Just last night he’d realized the cup had sentimental value.  What could have possessed him to do such a thing as to throw it out like yesterday’s rubbish?

 

“Belle!  What are you doing?” he asked, clearly mystified by her actions.

 

“You can’t throw …” she sobbed gratefully as her hand wrapped around its handle.  “It’s special, Rumpel.  When you remember … nevermind.  Why don’t you go change?” she asked with a sniff as she stood at the sink and carefully cleaned the delicate porcelain.  “I’ll make those calls to the cleaning service and check with Mr. Middleton’s shop about the paint samples you’d like to see.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin regarded her through narrowed eyes, realizing he’d upset her and not having a clue as to why.  It must have had something to do with the cup she held as if it were the most priceless relic the world had ever known.  It was just a cup.  Sure he could feel the sentimental value attached to it, like so many other items gathering dust in his home, but what was so special about this cup?  Why did she feel as though the world would end if something happened to it?  “Belle, are you alright?  Did I say something wrong?”

 

She shook her head, smiling sadly.  “No, not really.  It will take a bit of adjustment on both our parts to get through this, but I’ll help you … I promise.”

 

He turned to go upstairs, to change out of his singed suit as she’d suggested, but she stopped him before he could reach the door.  “Rum?  Just … please don’t throw out our cup again.”

 

The pleading watery gaze she sent his way twisted his heart into a pretzel-like knot.  He nodded and left her, his uneven gait taking him up the stairs and into his room.  No, he wouldn’t throw out the cup, not now that he’d seen just how important it was to her.  He had another mission … to find out why.

 

~*X*~

 

It didn’t take long for Belle to go through her list of contacts.  Marco happily agreed to take over the library until Rumpelstiltskin’s memory problem could be sorted out.  Not so much for the former Dark One, but for Belle.  August even said he’d be happy to help his father, when he wasn’t out helping with the search for Emma.  They just didn’t seem to want to understand that she wouldn’t show herself until she was ready.

 

Next was the cleaning service.  Mrs. Shoemacher asked Belle if she had called the wrong number.  “No, I didn’t.  I need assistance and considering my husband – whether he remembers it or not – still owns the house you are leasing.  Do we really want to upset him?”

 

The woman had been silent for a full minute as she’d let the threat sink in.  “What is it you need me to do?”

 

“I’ll have a full list of instructions when you arrive,” Belle had said, sighing as she leaned against the counter.  She hadn’t even had a moment to run upstairs and change out of her pajamas.

 

Mrs. Shoemacher made her displeasure known in no uncertain terms.  “I don’t like this, Mrs. Gold.  I can’t see any of my employee’s wanting to enter the Dark One’s lair.  I may have to charge extra.”

 

Belle paled as she heard her formal term of address slip from the woman’s lips and she glanced over her shoulder as if Rumpel could hear.  “Don’t call me that!  Rum can’t know that right now.  It would just complicate matters.”

 

“As you wish, though even with the word spreading throughout Storybrooke, you know someone is going to slip up.”

 

“Yes, I realize that, Mrs. Shoemacher,” she snarled dryly into the phone, her eyes narrowing in dismay even though the woman couldn’t see her through the line.  “And don’t worry about the fee.  Charge whatever you like as long as you get the job done.”

 

The woman sighed.  “Very well, Belle.  I’ll round up a crew and be over within the hour.”

 

Belle disconnected the call and reached for her cup, sipping distractedly at her tepid tea.  Her stomach growled in protest as the liquid sloshed down into the emptiness.  She was starving, but knew she didn’t have time to fix so much as a piece of toast.  She only hoped she could convince her husband to go out for breakfast.  The stale air of the kitchen wasn’t helping either, despite the fresh breeze wafting in through the open back door.

 

Mr. Middleton, of _Middleton’s Paints and Landscaping_ , was no happier to hear from her than Mrs. Shoemacher had been.  Unfortunately, Rumpel chose that moment to re-enter the kitchen, his brow drawn in a dark frown as he went to the refrigerator for the container of orange juice.

“Yes, Tom, I realize you’re busy with the renovations to town hall.  I don’t expect you to be able to rush right over and begin painting immediately.  All I’m asking is that you fit me in for a consultation at your earliest convenience and provide me with some samples,” she argued.

 

Rumpelstiltskin poured juice into a glass he found in the cupboard and watched her warily as she argued with the man on the phone.  He had to admit she was rather good with handling his business from what he could see.  He still didn’t know if he could trust her, but he didn’t have the option of telling her to leave.  He was lost and alone and she seemed to know so much about him, things he didn’t know about himself.  She was his best chance at the moment of regaining his memories.  It was just so frustrating not knowing who he was.  How was he supposed to meander through it all on pure instinct?

 

Belle glanced at him over her shoulder, the phone still held to her ear.  “Hang on, Tom.”  She held her hand over the receiver.  “I won’t be much longer and then we can go to Granny’s Diner for breakfast if you’re hungry.”  He nodded, finishing the juice and going to the sink to rinse out his glass and set in on the draining board.  She turned back to the screeching painter in her ear, quickly losing patience with the man.  “I don’t care, Mr. Middleton … yes, I understand … just get some samples delivered to the pawnshop by three o’clock.”  She jerked the phone away from her ear as he continued his tirade and she ground her teeth together in vexation.  “I’ll knock fifty dollars off your rent if you can have them there … yes, he’s serious about painting the house … no this isn’t one of his schemes.  Tom,” she growled, swiping a hand across her brow as she listened to a much calmer tone in his voice.  “Thank you.”

 

Belle forced herself not to slam her cell phone down on the counter in a burst of temper.  “Cantankerous old troll!” she vented.  She moved around to the other side of the island and pulled open a drawer at the bottom.  It was crammed full of little odds and ends and it took a bit of rummaging before she found a pen and pad.

 

Rumpel wandered over to her side and leaned in to see what she was writing.  The pen stuttered slightly, her elegant lines becoming harsh until they ceased altogether.  She could feel the heat radiating from him, smell the warm musky scent of his cologne.  Her eyes slammed shut as a warm rush of desire pooled in her belly.  She bit down on her lip, pushing her feelings aside.  He was vulnerable and she couldn’t just turn to him and take advantage of the situation.  She wasn’t even certain that he still wanted her.

 

“What are you doing now?” he asked, his warm breath ghosting over the back of her neck.

 

“Um … just preparing a list for the cleaning service,” she said, her voice no more than a breathy whisper.  Oh gods!  How was she going to make it through the day if he kept invading her personal space?  Things were becoming entirely too complicated.  Even if his memory was to return, there were so many issues for them to work through before they could move forward.  At least she was confident in the fact that she still loved him.  That had never really been an issue.  She had always loved him, even when she was flaming mad about his betrayal.  He was her true love, something she hadn’t forgotten during her brief flirtation with Will Scarlett.  It had never been about love with the thief.  He was a good friend and he’d been there to make her laugh when it felt as though her heart was crumbling to dust.  She still needed to speak with him about what had happened last night, but Rumpel was her primary concern.  “They need to know what to pack up and prepare for delivery to the shop.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin stared down at her, unable to deny the electrical pull that had sprung up between them.  She looked about ready to climb into his lap and have _him_ for breakfast, if her blown pupils and the rapid rise and fall of her chest were any indication.  Yet, surely he must be mistaken.  He’d glowered at his own reflection in the mirror not two hours ago after he’d showered.  A woman as beautiful as Belle would have no interest in him of all people.  She could have any man in town and all she’d have to do was crook her dainty little finger.  He hated to admit … she could have him as well.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked, wanting to kick himself for the breathless tone of his voice.  He didn’t have time for romance.  He needed to find out – and quickly – just who the hell he was.

 

Belle quickly snapped out of the fog which had seemed to envelop her and focused her attention back to her list of instructions.  “Yes … yes, I’m fine.  Just give me a moment.”  She hurried with her hastily scribbled notes and turned on her heel, disappearing up the stairs without another word.

 

When she’d gained the relative safety of her room, she leaned back against the door and closed her eyes, a huge huff of air gusting past her parted lips which turned into a moan.  What was she going to do?  Lusting after her own husband.  Fuck!

 

~*X*~

 

“Are you certain you remember how to drive?” she asked skeptically as she held the keys to the Cadillac behind her back and out of his direct reach.  Her heart stuttered.  Had he been himself, she’d have found herself pinned against the car with her husband’s warm weight pressing into her as he slipped his arms about her waist, trying to coax the keys from her.  Her color heightened dramatically at the thought.

 

“I may not remember who I am, dearie, but I remember basic skills.  Driving happens to be one of them,” he snarked, his fingers twitching in a ‘gimme’ gesture.

 

She relinquished the keys with a heavy sigh and trudged over to the passenger side to climb in.  “What else do you remember, Rumpel?” she asked softly as he backed out of the driveway and turned the car towards town, retracing the route she’d driven the previous evening.

 

He gave a slight shake of his head.  “Nothing, really.  Belle?” he asked, sneaking a peek at her from the corner of his eye.  “Why did that woman look at me as if I were going to ravage the village and steal her children?”

 

Belle groaned inwardly.  Mrs. Shoemacher had arrived before she’d been done with showering and changing and had been left on her own with Rumpelstiltskin.  He’d handed her the instructions Belle had left, but hadn’t hesitated to go through the den and living room to show the woman and her two helpers what he wanted packed away.  The kitchen had spoken for itself and the woman had wrinkled her nose in disgust, but she wasn’t able to hide the fear in her eyes.

 

It took a concentrated effort for her not to reach for his hand and clasp it gently in hers.  “Rum, you are a very powerful businessman.  You own ninety-three percent of this town and are not known for your kindness,” she said, refusing to whitewash it for him as he pulled into his parking space near the side entrance to the shop.  “You are feared and respected, but not well liked.”

 

He nodded, his eyes downcast towards his lap as his fingers toyed idly with the steering wheel.  “Do you fear me, Belle?” he implored, the answer meaning more to him than he was willing to admit.

 

“Of course not, Rum,” she replied gently.  “I’ve never been afraid of you.  It doesn’t matter what people think.  You’ve worked hard to build your fortune and it’s not your fault that the townspeople can’t realize that.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath as he let her words sink in.  No, it didn’t matter if the people of this town liked him or not.  He had some deep seated intuition that he’d dealt with a situation similar to this in the past, though he couldn’t put his finger on it.  Before he could answer her questioning gaze, his stomach emitted a loud grumble of protest.

 

Belle patted his hand and offered him a warm smile which set off a myriad of flutterings in his belly.  “Come on, Rum.  Let’s walk to Granny’s and get breakfast.” 

 

~*X*~

 

The diner was nearly filled to capacity as she led him through the door, the morning breakfast rush in full swing.  Her hand was warm and reassuring, nestled in the crook of his elbow, and she could feel him tense up as the eyes of so many strangers came to rest on him, a hush falling over the occupants.

 

She nudged him to get him moving in the general direction of their booth – which seemed to be the only table unoccupied – her voice warm.  “Don’t let them intimidate you, Rumpel.  It’s fine.”

 

He sat down opposite her once she was seated and rested his cane at his side, trying to focus on her rather than the staring diners.  “Why are they all looking at us?” he asked, his brows drawn together in a perpetual frown.

 

Belle handed him a menu from the holder behind the napkin dispenser and smiled nonchalantly.  “They know what happened to you last night and they’re eager to see for themselves whether or not you’re really alright.  Ignore them, dar- Rum.”  Wincing at her near mistake, she bit her lip as she perused the menu and then set it aside.  She didn’t know why she even bothered with it when she ordered the same thing every time.  Perhaps it was to have something to do with her hands to keep her nervousness from showing.

 

Rumpel frowned blackly at the menu, flipping it over to take in the choices on the other side.  How was he supposed to choose?  “I don’t know what to order,” he declared somewhat irritably.

 

Belle took the menu from him and placed it back behind the napkin dispenser.  She reached out and covered his hand with hers, gathering her courage and hoping he wouldn’t pull away from her.  When he didn’t, she said, “Don’t worry.  I’ll order what we usually have.  If you don’t like it, next time we’ll have something else?”

 

He nodded, staring down at her hand resting lightly over his own, a small smile curling his thin lips at the softness of her touch.  Did she always find it so easy to touch him, someone the rest of the town seemed to fear and loathe?  Their waitress appeared suddenly at the table, jerking his thoughts back to where he was.

 

“Morning, Belle, Mr. Gold,” Ruby said with false cheerfulness as she shot Belle a telling look.  One that said she wanted answers as soon as she could tear herself away from her husband.  “The usual?”

 

“Yes, Ruby, thank you.  And two cups of Earl Grey if you please.”

 

“Sure thing.” 

 

Regina – apparently unable to wait a second longer – stalked over to the table as Rudy moved off to put in their order.  “Belle,” she snapped, dispensing with any semblance of pleasantries.  “Could I have a word with you?”

 

“Good morning to you too, Regina,” Belle muttered dryly.  “Rum, I’ll be right back, ok?”

 

He waved her off, though his dark ocher eyes followed her every move as she left the booth.  It was clear to her he was wary of having her leave his side.  She stayed within his line of sight, however, refusing to allow Regina to drag her off into the corridor that led to the bed and breakfast.

 

“Did you learn anything?” Regina asked, her gaze boring into her. 

 

“No,” she sighed, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.  Even after all this time, she was still leery of the former queen … especially after their latest altercation where she’d ‘borrowed’ Belle’s heart to use as leverage against Rumpelstiltskin.  “He didn’t miraculously regain his memories after a good night’s sleep.  I’m afraid it’s going to take a bit more than that.”

 

“Belle, look, I don’t have time for this!  He _has_ to remember … quickly.  He’s the only one who’s capable of helping us with Emma and –“  


Belle’s eyes narrowed dangerously on the woman she’d once feared.  “Let me tell you something, Regina Mills,” she hissed furiously, keeping her voice low so Rumpel wouldn’t overhear and wonder over it.  “I understand how important it is to help Emma – she’s my friend too – but you need to realize something.  That man sitting over there is my husband, my true love.  He’s the most important person in my life, much like Henry and Robin are to you.  I will not jeopardize him just so you can use him for your own personal agenda.  You let me worry about him.  When – or even if – I can find a way to help him remember, I’ll _ask_ if he would be kind enough to lend his help, but it will be _his_ choice – not yours.  Am I making myself perfectly clear?  You will not hurt him to get what you want.”

 

“Well, well.  Where was this great love when you cast him over the town line?” Regina snarked, raising one perfectly sculpted brow.

 

“I was trying to save everyone as you well know.  He was completely out of control!  But this isn’t about me,” she hissed.  “Rumpel isn’t the Dark One anymore.  We have no idea if he can even access his magic or what will happen once he recovers his memories, but he’s been through enough.  I won’t allow anyone – myself included – to harm him again.”

 

Regina huffed in frustration.  “I don’t want to hurt him, Belle,” she admitted ruefully, showing Belle just how far she’d come since having Robin back in her life.  “I just want his help.”

 

Some of the fire drained out of her and she sighed.  “I know, and I promise I’ll do everything I can to bring him back if it’s possible.  You … ah … you wouldn’t have a potion that would bring back … no of course you don’t.  If you did, you would have come to me with it by now.”

 

Robin caught Regina’s eye across the diner, his brows raised as he watched her argue with Rumpelstiltskin’s wife.  She groaned inwardly at the reminder that she was trying to be good, trying to be worthy of her outlaw and Henry and little Roland.  She needed to squash her Evil Queen tendencies that always rose to the surface to derail her sense of right and wrong.  Regina gave Belle a pained look.  “The only memory potions I have experience with are the ones that take memories away.  I know nothing of one that would restore them.  Your best bet would be True Love’s Kiss.  There’s just one problem …”

 

“He doesn’t remember that he loves me.”

 

“Belle, you’re a clever girl.  Simply make him fall in love with you all over again.  You did it once … surely you can do it again.”  With that she turned on her heel, leaving the little librarian with food for thought.

 

~*X*~

 

Rumpelstiltskin watched Belle curiously as she conversed with the Mayor of Storybrooke.  Every muscle in her body proclaimed that she was tense, on guard, wary.  Why would she willingly agree to speak with someone who was clearly her adversary?  He dropped his gaze as she looked over at him, not wanting her to think that he was spying on her.  He was, he admitted to himself, but he didn’t want her to know that.  He couldn’t help but be curious about his little ‘caretaker’.  The fine hairs at the back of his neck stood on end when he was in her presence, warmth filled his chest, and his problems didn’t seem to be quite so heavy.

 

Who was she really?  He couldn’t deny her reaction earlier in the kitchen when he’d gotten a little too close.  There was something more between them … something a bit more personal than employee and employer.  He just couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  He might not be able to remember who he was, but he knew he wasn’t a good man.  That thought churned in his belly like live eels.  What had made him a pariah in this town?  What had he done to alienate the citizens and have them look upon him with such fear and loathing?  And why was Belle so steadfast in her resolve to stand beside him, to help him try to remember himself?  He was beginning to wonder if it would behoove him to remember at all.

 

His eyes darted about the diner, searching out all the exits.  He could taste the metallic twang of fear at the back of his tongue, the clenching of his muscles as the desire to flee overwhelmed him.  His hand balled into a fist atop the formica tabletop, his right wrapping about the handle of his cane … and then she was there, back at his side, her soft hand covering his and chasing away his panic.

 

Her smile was filled with concern as her thumb rubbed soothingly over the back of his hand, her touch grounding him to the moment and showing him that everything would be alright as long as she was with him.  He would get through this, he would remember, her lovely cerulean eyes assured him without her having to speak a word.

 

“Everything alright, Rum?” she asked, a tender smile curving her lips.

 

 _It is now,_ he thought, giving her a slight nod.  The hand resting on his cane relaxed and some of the tension fled his tight muscles as he became lost in her gaze.  “Yes.”  He gestured to the brunette who’d returned to her family at a corner booth and resumed her morning meal.  “What was that all about?”

 

Belle bit her lip, an idea forming in her mind.  “A friend of hers has gone missing and she’s worried about her.  Henry is concerned as well,” she said, pointing out the young boy sitting to Regina’s left.  “The woman who’s missing is his mother … his other mother anyway.  It’s complicated.”

 

Ruby interrupted as she set their breakfast platters on the table in front of them and scurried off to see to her other customers.  Rumpelstiltskin’s gaze dropped to his food, the delicious smell of hotcakes, bacon, and a cheese omelet rose to greet him.  “How is it complicated?” he asked, retrieving his fork from the napkin it was rolled in and digging in immediately.

 

Belle smiled softly, happy to see he hadn’t lost his appetite.  Hers remained untouched as she added sugar to her tea.  “Regina is his mother too … his adoptive mother.  They weren’t always friends.  Their relationship was quite volatile at one point, but now they’ve put aside their differences to make Henry happy.”  She drew in a deep breath.  “You’ve always been more tolerant of Emma Swan than you have been of Regina.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin looked up at her, his fork pausing mere inches from his lips as he met her gaze.  Something pricked at the back of his mind as the name chanted a litany across his frontal lobe.  _Emma_ _…_ _Emma_ _…_ _Emma_ _…_ _Emma_ _…_

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

        “Rum?” Belle asked, watching the fork quiver as it hovered before his mouth.  “Rumpel, are you alright?”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin slowly lowered his fork down to rest on his plate, bringing his other hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose as the name continued to chant a litany of whispers across his mind.  He’d heard that name before … it was somehow important, but why?  He drew in a deep breath, hoping it would calm the roiling waves in his stomach.  Belle’s touch, her thumb rubbing gently over the back of his other hand, grounded him, giving him the strength to push his troubling thoughts away and focus on her once more.  “I’m fine, dearie,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice came out in a raspy croak.  “Just a bit dizzy, but it seems to be passing.”

 

        She watched him anxiously as he slipped his hand free of hers and reached for his tea, taking a long sip.  Groaning inwardly, she turned back to her own breakfast, the pancakes on her plate no longer holding any appeal.  Emma’s name had been the catalyst for his memories returning before.  Was it wrong of her to have hoped it would trigger them again?  She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.  Her relationship with Rumpelstiltskin had never been simple.  Why would the fates suddenly decide to grant them a boon?

 

        They lapsed into a comfortable silence as her husband polished off the contents of his plate and sat back with a contented sigh.  Belle had merely managed to push her food about to look as if she’d eaten some of it.  Even without his memories, she hadn’t managed to fool him.  “Why aren’t you eating, Belle?  Are you ill?”

 

        She sipped delicately from her cup of tepid tea and shot him a strained smile over the rim.  “I suppose I’m just not hungry this morning.  I -”  Belle was interrupted by Ruby reappearing next to their booth and dropping a stuffed envelope next to Gold’s plate instead of the check.

 

        “What’s this?” he asked, bewildered as he picked it up and took in the windfall of cash within.  “Did I win the lottery?  I don’t recall buying a ticket.”

 

        _Crap! How could I have forgotten rent day?_ Belle groaned, her nose wrinkling and a hand rising swiftly to cover her gasp of horror.  She’d have to call Dove.  “It’s the rent for the diner and bed and breakfast, Rumpel.  With everything that happened yesterday, it must have slipped my mind.”  She took the envelope and dropped several bills on the table – including a generous tip for Ruby – and slid out of the booth.  “I’ll call Dove and tell him to begin collections immediately.”

 

        Gold frowned as he watched her stuff the envelope in her purse and led him out into the crisp spring air on their way to the pawnshop.  “Dove? The behemoth I met this morning? He works for me too?”

 

        “Of course,” she said with an unrepentant smirk.  “He’s your most loyal servant – aside from me of course.”  He ducked his head sheepishly, just the hint of a smile playing at his lips as if he were surprised by her teasing.  There was no mistaking the color that rose in his cheeks, however.  “Dove usually accompanies you when you collect the rent from your properties.  He’s your muscle slash bodyguard, you could say.  He tends to make things a bit easier on you.”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin frowned again as she took his keys and let them into the shop, not bothering to turn the sign to open and locking the door behind them.  “We’re not opening today?” he asked with a puzzled frown as he followed her into the back room.

 

        She encouraged him to sit down at his workbench and placed a ledger before him.  “No.  We never open on rent day since you spend so much of the day away from the shop.”  She flipped the ledger open and leaned in close to him, her fingers skimming over the names and markings in the book.  “These are your tenants.  Businesses first, and then private renters.  Everything is categorized.  When Dove brings you the payments, we mark them off.”

 

        “I think I’ll go with him,” he said with a firm nod, unaware of her distraction as she moved over to the cupboard where he had previously kept her chipped cup, her fingers ghosting over the engravings on the door.

 

        “Wait! What?” she cried, whirling back to him, her eyebrows raised in alarm.  “You want to collect the rent when you can’t remember anything about your routine?”

 

        He drew himself up, affronted by her lack of faith.  “Well, why not?  Perhaps I’ll see something familiar which will spark my memory.”

 

        The niggling tingling at the back of her mind, that tiny wisp of something telling her she was missing a vital clue in her quest to right the wrong that had been done him finally bloomed to life in her consciousness and she smacked her hand to her brow.  _Why didn’t I think of it before!_ She scolded herself mentally, chewing thoughtfully at her lower lip.

 

        “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, his brow furrowing in displeasure and concern.  “You’re acting oddly.  Are you always like this?”

 

        “Um … no, ah,” she stammered, casting him a brilliant smile.  “You just go over the ledger to familiarize yourself with things and I’ll text Dove.”  She whipped the iPhone out of her pocket and proceeded to send Dove a message, glancing furtively between her husband and the cabinet behind him.  “How about some tea before you leave, hmm?” she asked.

 

        Rumpelstiltskin grunted noncommittally and turned his attention to the ledger as she set about filling the kettle with water and placing it on the burner of the small camp stove they kept in the back room.  She sprinted through the curtain as a knock sounded on the front door of the shop, giving him no time to question her.

 

        She pounced on Dove the moment she’d shut the door behind him.  “Did you bring it?” she asked, her voice a frenzied whisper.

 

        He handed her the small box he carried under one arm, the chipped cup carefully nestled inside.  “I did, Miss Belle,” he said, refraining from using her married moniker.  “And do you really think he should go with me today being as he’s not quite himself?”

 

        Belle huffed in exasperation.  “No, it’s not a good idea, but if my plan works, he may be more himself than we could hope.”

 

        “Shall I just wait by the car?”

 

        Belle cradled the cup in her hands, hope springing to life in her chest.  “Yes, yes, that’s fine. Whether this works or not, you’re still going to have to see to collections.  I’ll send him out soon.”

 

        “Who was at the door, dearie?” Rumpelstiltskin asked as she breezed back through the curtain and moved once more to the ornate cabinet, using a little silver key on her ring of many to unlock it.  She retrieved a small vial of blue potion and swirled it in the light, fretting over the contents.  It hadn’t taken much to return her own memories when she’d been Lacey.  Would the small amount that remained in the vial be enough to restore his own?

 

        His chair squeaked as he rose, his cane tapping a staccato against the hardwood floor as he approached her.  He scoffed as he noticed the cup clenched tightly in her hand.  “It was just Dove,” she said, lifting her troubled gaze to his.

 

        “What’s that?” he asked, taking note of the vial in her other hand.

 

        “It’s … um … it’s something that might help with your ankle since you’re going to be on it so much today?” she said, making it more of a question.  She’d never been very successful with lying to him.  Too bad he couldn’t say the same, she thought bitterly.

 

        His lip curled up into a snarl as he gritted out through clenched teeth, his hand coiling about her wrist that held the potion.  “Don’t lie to me,” he sneered, his ocher eyes darkening in anger.

 

        Belle’s face twisted up into a pained expression, not from his tight grip, but more from the fact that she knew she had to get him to trust her – something that was nearly impossible due to his nature.  “Rumpel, let go.  Please, you’re hurting me.”

 

        He released her instantly, his face contrite, and took a deep breath as he continued to glare at her.  “So you can try to poison me?”

 

        She set the cup and the vial on the table and reached for him, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders.  He flinched under her touch, but she didn’t let go of him.  “Rumpel, I would _never_ do anything to harm you.  Please … please believe that.  Let me try to help you.”

 

        The tension abated somewhat from his shoulders as she lifted one hand to brush the hair away from his eyes, her fingers ghosting softly over the curve of his jaw.  “Why should I?  I don’t _know_ you, Belle.  All I know is what I’ve been told.”  His hand clasped tightly over the head of his cane, his knuckles whitening as he searched her face for any sign of deception.  "I want to trust you, but –“

 

        “I know,” she nodded, blinking rapidly to fight off the stinging of tears behind her lids.  “You’ve never been able to trust easily.  Believe me, I know that more than anyone, but I’m asking … no begging … you to please try just this once.  You helped me, Rumpel.  I found myself in a similar situation and you brought me back … with this,” she murmured tearfully, gesturing to the potion.  “I trusted you when my instincts screamed for me not to, and you saved me.  Please let me try to do the same for you.”

 

        Belle could feel the indecision radiating from his every pore and see the turmoil in his gaze, but finally he nodded.  It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to throw her arms about his neck and pull him in to her.  Instead, she nodded and uncorked the vial, pouring the remainder of the potion into their cup.  Pressing it into his hands, she gazed up at him hopefully.

 

        “I don’t see how this is going to help, Belle, but –“ he lamented, staring down at the sparkling liquid in the china cup, but he somehow couldn’t bear to disappoint her.  She was trying to help him.  He couldn’t deny the hope so evident in her cerulean eyes.  He quickly tossed back the potion, grimacing slightly as it touched his tongue and slid over the back of his throat.

 

        Belle watched him anxiously as the wave of blue fairy magic washed over his lean form, his eyes closing briefly as it seemed to take hold.  “Rum?” she queried breathlessly as he set the cup back onto the table.  Crushing disappointment settled heavily in her stomach as he opened his eyes to stare back at her in question.  There was no light behind the deep sable pools, no trace of her imp, nor the man Storybrooke had feared during the years of the curse.  He was still a blank slate.

 

        He shook his head dejectedly.  “I’m sorry, Belle.  It didn’t work.”

 

        She sighed, her hopes dashed to bits, and offered him a brave smile.  “It’s ok.  I’ll just have to try again,” she said encouragingly.  “Don’t worry, Rumpel, I’m not giving up.  I _will_ find a way to help you remember.”

 

        “I guess I should … go,” he said, casting her a worried frown.  “Belle?”

 

        “Yeah?”

 

        “Nevermind.  I’ll see you later,” he said, turning quickly and leaving through the back door of the shop.  He couldn’t bring himself to ask the question that seemed to plague him so fiercely … why did she care so much when the rest of the town scorned him?

 

~*X*~

 

        Belle took the little baby blue Fiat Rumpel had given her for a wedding gift and made her way to the outskirts of Storybrooke, fuming silently that her last ditch effort hadn’t worked.  She’d been so sure the last of the potion would restore Rumpelstiltskin’s memories and the crushing weight of failure settled on her chest like an anvil.  Now she was being forced to seek out answers from the one person she’d rather not.

 

        She honked the horn as she turned on the road that led up the hill, waving to little Grace as the Fiat raced past the immense stone mansion where Jefferson lived with his daughter.  She wasn’t too surprised that he hadn’t joined in on the search for the new Dark One.  He’d been forced to be apart from his daughter for the duration of the curse, his memories intact, and now he refused to spare even a moment away from Grace.  She couldn’t blame him.  Sometimes she wanted to barricade herself in the pink Victorian with Rumpel and lock out the rest of the town and their ceaseless cries for help.  Now that he wasn’t quite himself, she would have to revisit that idea.

 

        Belle slammed the gearshift into park and hurriedly snatched the keys from the ignition, nearly forgetting to set the brake in her haste.  She raced up the steps to the convent, Astrid there to greet her with a hug as she entered the great stone edifice.  “Belle, hi!” the flighty fairy beamed at her.  “What brings you all the way out here?”

 

        “I need to see Blue.  I have some questions for her about a potion she’d given to Rumpel when they were trying to cure my amnesia … when I was Lacey,” she admitted ruefully.

 

        Astrid looked between the corridor that led to Blue’s office and Belle.  “Oh … ah, I’m not sure if she’s in her office or the chapel,” she said, urging Belle to follow her.  “How is Rumpelstiltskin?  We heard about what happened.”

 

        Belle gnashed her teeth in vexation, but managed to hide her dismay.  “Small town,” she offered.  “I haven’t seen you in town lately … how are you and Leroy?”

 

        The fairy’s face fell, her lip disappearing between her pearly teeth.  “Um … Blue doesn’t want me to leave the convent.”

 

        Belle arched a brow, her lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure.  “It shouldn’t matter what she wants, Astrid.  He’s your true love.  It should be your choice whether to be with him or not.”

 

        Astrid wrung her hands, clearly upset by the topic.  “She’s still of the firm opinion that fairies and dwarves aren’t capable of love.  She’s asked me to stay a month and if I still want to leave … to be with him, she won’t protest.”

 

        Belle stopped midstride in the middle of the long hallway and turned to her, clasping the fairy’s hands to still their trembling.  “She said the same thing to me, more than once, about my Rumpel.  She said he was incapable of love, that the darkness which dwelled within him prevented such tender and noble feelings.  She insisted he was simply using me, but, Astrid, if he hadn’t loved Baelfire … if he hadn’t loved _me_ … the darkness would have consumed him centuries ago.  The little bit of light left in his heart was his love for me.  Would you even care to hazard a guess as to what he would have been like without his love for us?” she asked, taking note of the shudder that rippled through the taller woman.  “ _Everyone_ has the capability to love.  Don’t throw away your chance at happiness because someone tells you it isn’t possible.”

 

        Astrid drew Belle into a warm embrace, thankful for her friendship over the last several months.  “I love him so much, Belle.  I could never give up on him.  Gods know it took me long enough to convince him we should be together, but I owe Blue so much.  She’s been my mentor … if not my friend.  I know it will hurt her to see me leave at the end of the time I promised her, but I need to be with Leroy.”

 

        A truly happy smile curled Belle’s lips as she gazed at her friend.  “I’m so glad.  I wish you all the best.”  She knew it couldn’t have been easy to convince the stubborn dwarf that her love was true.  He had his own cross to bear with his brothers telling him basically the same line the Blue Fairy used on Astrid.  Belle thought of Rumpel, and she squared her shoulders with determination as she turned away from Astrid and faced the door to Blue’s office.  She had let him go once, frightened and betrayed by his actions instead of confronting him as his equal.  It was one of her biggest regrets, but she refused to give up on him again.  She knew what it was like to love him and live without him now … again, really, if she took their time in the Enchanted Forest into consideration after he’d tossed her out … she couldn’t do it again.  He was worth fighting for.  In her anger, she’d merely forgotten.

 

        She shook herself from her reverie as Astrid ushered her into the office and left her alone with the mother superior.  She needed to have her wits about her if she were to speak with the crafty fairy.  “Hello, Blue.  I’m sorry to barge in on you unannounced, but I really need your help.”

 

        Blue’s lips curled into a smile, the same one she wore when confronted with something unpleasant and seemed out of place with the cold steely gleam in her eyes.  “Mrs. Gold,” she acknowledged.  “How can I be of assistance?  Does this have anything to do with the savior?”  She rose from her desk and rounded the monstrosity to face Belle, her brows drawn low over her eyes in a worried frown.

 

        “No, it has to do with my husband,” Belle said, bracing herself for the fairy’s disdain. 

 

        “I don’t see how I could help Rumpelstiltskin,” she assured her coldly, drawing herself up to her full height.  “Nor do I think he’d want it to begin with.”

 

        Belle stared at her through slightly narrowed eyes, impatient to be done with her task so she could return to the shop and wait for her husband to return to her.  She never felt quite right in the fairy’s presence.  There was something about her … something malicious and dark about the woman.  She just couldn’t quite put her finger on it.  “The potion you made for Sneezy and I when we lost our memories? Do you remember?”

 

        “Of course,” the woman said, affronted that Belle would think she’d forgotten.

 

        “There was some leftover, and I used it on Rumpel in the hopes that it would return him to me.  Why didn’t it work?”

 

        Blue sniffed imperiously and crossed her arms over her ample bosom.  “There are several factors that could be preventing the return of his memories, dear,” she said in a condescending tone that had Belle gnashing her teeth.  “For one, the potion was specific to the spell that had removed your memories in the first place.  Secondly, that potion is clearly outdated, having been made so long ago.  I could make another batch, if you wish, but there’s no guarantee that it would work.  The apprentice’s magic would have been your best hope.  Unfortunately, I hear he passed in the wake of the darkness being loosed on the town.”

 

        Belle watched the fairy carefully, her lips parting on a horrified gasp at the smug satisfaction which bloomed on the woman’s face.  “You wouldn’t help him if you could.  He’s not the Dark One any longer, Blue.”

 

        The fairy waved a dismissive hand, and shook her head regretfully.  “Oh, Belle, you’re so naïve.  Why would you even want his memories to return?  Perhaps his memory loss is for the best.  It will give him a chance to be a better man.  That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?  For him to be a good man worthy of your love?” she sneered.

 

        Belle’s hands balled into fists at her sides.  She’d never been prone to violence, but she couldn’t remember ever having such a strong desire to punch someone in the face.  “You seem to be forgetting something, dearie,” she hissed, her turn to feel satisfaction coursing through her as the woman winced at the sarcastic endearment Rumpelstiltskin was so fond of using.  “I fell in love with him when he was full on Dark One.  There isn’t a part of him that I don’t love and cherish.  Yes, I know he’s capable of being a better man.  It wasn’t easy seeing behind the mask to the gentle man he’d been before his curse, but I did and it made me love him all the more.  You have no idea who he truly is.  I never worried about him being worthy of me.  In fact I was always concerned that _I_ wasn’t worthy of _him_.  I worried that I wasn’t enough to help him see I wouldn’t hurt him as he’d been hurt by his first wife.”  She was trembling with anger and outrage, the color high in her cheeks as her voice rose.  “I failed him.  I was frightened and I failed him.  I won’t make that mistake again.”

 

        “Belle, he’s a villain.  Villains don’t deserve happiness,” the fairy scoffed.

 

        “No!  No, he’s not.  He’s a man who has been cursed for centuries.  His choices have been abominable, yes.  The episode where he tried to kill Killian was proof of that, despite his noble intentions to be free of his curse.  Can you really blame him for not wanting to be controlled again after what Zelena put him through?” she screeched.  “And how can you stand there and claim him unworthy of your help when he sacrificed himself to save us all from Pan?  His own father?”

 

        Rheul Ghorm looked uncomfortable for the first time since Belle had entered the room.  “He did that to save you and his son.  His motives –“

 

        “Oh shut it, you sanctimonious little harpy.  You stand there with your holier-than-thou attitude, hiding behind your ‘goodness’,” Belle sneered, using her fingers to make air quotes as she snarled the word, “refusing to help unless you feel the person in need is worthy of your aid.”  She narrowed her eyes shrewdly, pointing an accusing finger.  “You need to look at the darkness within yourself before you start judging my husband.  I have a feeling if Emma gives in to the overwhelming entity of the Dark One, the so called heroes of Storybrooke won’t be so quick to judge her as they have Rumpel.”

 

        “Emma is the savior, Belle.  She’s a creature of light.  Surely she won’t –“

 

        Belle huffed a bitter laugh.  “See?” she sneered, turning towards the door.  “I knew it was a mistake to come here.”

 

        The door nearly slammed into the wall, revealing Rumpelstiltskin leaning heavily upon his gold handled cane, his countenance reminiscent of the imp he’d once been in his carefully controlled anger. 

 

        Belle blanched, her hand rising to settle over her pounding heart.  “Rumpel, what are you doing here?” she asked, wondering how much he’d heard of her venomous tirade.

 

        “I’m here to collect the rent, dearie,” he said simply, his rage carefully contained as he glared at the fairy.  “But now I’m rather intrigued as to why you are yelling at my assistant.”

 

        “I-It was a simple misunderstanding, Mr. Gold,” Blue stammered, rounding her desk to retrieve the envelope containing the monthly fee he was there to collect.

 

        Belle moved to his side, her hand coming to rest upon his where it gripped his cane.  “It’s fine, Rum, really,” she assured him.  “We merely had a difference of opinion.”

 

        “That’s not what it sounded like to me.  I could hear you from the foyer.”  He decided to let it go when she shrugged and clamped her lips shut, refusing to discuss it with him in front of the woman who’d provoked her ire.  “Very well, dearie.  We’ll revisit this conversation at a later time, I’m sure.”

 

        Belle groaned inwardly as she watched him take the envelope and turn to leave, completely dismissing the nun.  She glanced over her shoulder at Blue, her jaw tight at the woman’s failure to provide her with the help she so desperately needed, and followed her husband out of the convent.

 

~*X*~

 

        Belle cursed softly as she retrieved the pan of chicken, broccoli, rice casserole from the oven, burning her thumb in the process.  She prayed the day from hell would soon come to an end and she could rest.  She set the pan on top of the stove and popped the injured digit into her mouth, sucking gently.  With very little sleep the previous night – really she hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since she’d forced Rumpelstiltskin over the town line – she was utterly exhausted.  She had to wonder if her husband were equally weary.  He’d returned from his rounds with Dove just in time to meet with Mr. Middleton, choosing a lovely dove gray from the samples the painter had brought with him.  The Victorian would look absolutely lovely in that shade, but it nearly broke her heart to think of painting their home.  She was quite fond of the pink.  She could still remember when Rumpelstiltskin had brought her home after the curse had been broken and his adamant declaration that it wasn’t pink – it was salmon.  A small smile curled up one side of her lips, only to falter into a grimace as tears sprang up in her eyes.

 

        Thankfully, Tom wasn’t available to do the actual painting until the renovations to Town Hall were completed.  With any luck, Rumpelstiltskin’s memories would return before the painting commenced.  She glanced over her shoulder at his closed study door as she moved to pull plates from the cupboard and dish up their supper.  It was one of his favorites, and it had been quick and easy.  She really didn’t have the fortitude to tackle something more involved in the prep.  He had been closed up in his sanctuary since they’d come home.  At least he thought it was his sanctuary.  She didn’t think he was quite ready to see the basement where his workshop was.  The thought of him finding his potions lab or his spinning wheel didn’t sit well with her.  Aside from the questions he’d surely have for her – Gods! How the hell would she explain that?! – without his memories there was a very real danger that he might hurt himself.  She made a mental note to have Dove install a padlock on the cellar doors first thing in the morning.

 

        She knocked softly before pushing the door open.  “Rum?  Dinner’s ready.”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin stood at the open French doors, a soft breeze wafting into the room from the gardens.  The roses were just beginning to bloom and their fragrance reminded her of the warm nights she’d spent at the Dark Castle with him.  She missed the solitude of their former home, despite the tension which had existed between them.  She moved to stand behind him, surprised that he’d already shucked his jacket and tie for the evening.  Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, gently kneading the tension from his muscles.  He jerked reflexively, but didn’t pull away from her.  She could tell he was troubled, in spite of the way she’d tried to ease him back into a reasonable facsimile of his routine.  Instead of pushing, she gave him time to answer.

 

        “Belle …”  Her name was a reverent sigh on his lips.  “Why are you here?” he asked, his head bowing and his soft fringe of hair falling over his eyes as if he were trying to hide from her.

 

        “Because I want to be, Rumpel,” she answered without hesitation, her hands ghosting gently up and down his arms, trying to soothe whatever demons tortured him.  “I want to be here with you.”

 

        “You deserve better than being chained to me, Belle.  You need to be in the light and here there’s nothing but darkness.”

 

        Belle sighed and circled around in front of him, the mere inches separating them feeling more like a gaping chasm.  “You aren’t allowed to tell me what I deserve, Rumpel, nor are you allowed to send me away.  I’m here for you and here I shall remain.  I won’t leave you.”

 

        “This town hates me,” he whispered, a wry smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.  “Not that I blame them.  I went over the books to discover I’m charging entirely too much for the properties I own.  They fear me, knowing I have to power to leave them homeless and destitute.”  He sighed, his ocher eyes troubled as he lifted his gaze to meet hers.  “I don’t think I like myself very much either.”

 

        Her heart broke just a little bit more for her damaged husband, and she couldn’t hold herself back another second, closing the distance between them to wrap her arms about his waist.  “I like you … very much.  Your business practices can be amended if you’re unhappy with them, but that’s no reason not to like yourself, Rum.”

 

        His arms wrapped around her as he rested his cheek atop her chestnut curls, holding onto her like a lifeline.  “How did I get like this?  What made me such a cold, unfeeling bastard?”

 

        “Stop it!” she scolded, her fingers pressing lightly into the small of his back in gentle soothing circles.  “Don’t talk about yourself that way.  I’ll not stand for it.  You’re a good man, Rumpel.  I see it … I’ve always seen it.  Please don’t lose hope.  You’ll remember who you are and everything will become clear.  I’ll help you.”

 

        He tipped her chin up, startled by the tears sparkling in her eyes.  “Why do you care so much?” he queried, finally asking the question which had been plaguing him for the better part of the day.

 

        His eyes closed, leaning into her touch as her hand settled alongside his cheek.  “Because you’re important to me, Rumpel.  I care for you.”  It was the most she could admit to him without his memories.  It would just be too much for him to learn he had a wife, much less that their relationship wasn’t perfect.

 

        Rumpelstiltskin nodded, his mask sliding back into place as he offered her a sad smile.  “Thank you, Belle.  I think I’d be lost without you.”

 

        Belle returned it and slipped out of his arms, retaining her hold on his hand as she urged him to follow her to the kitchen where their supper awaited.  Perhaps Regina had been right and true love was what was needed.  She’d seen a glimpse of his heart in his eyes, giving her hope that he’d return to her eventually.  “We’re in this together, Rum.  There’s nothing we can’t accomplish if we stick together.  Have faith.”

 

        He followed her into the kitchen, his stomach growling at the delicious smells permeating the air.  “I think you have enough faith for us both,” he said as she placed a plate before him and moved off to pour them each a glass of wine.  “But I shall try.”

 

 

       

 

       


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ok shit’s fixing to get deep. First of all, I would like to state for the record that I am not in any way trained in psychology, psychiatry, etc etc. You will not find anything in here that can be cited in a medical journal. It’s all straight out of my head – which is one of the fabulous things about fanfiction right? This chapter is full of TRIGGERS such as non con, rape, aftermath of rape, and whatnot. I’m not trying to offend or scar anyone which is why I’m writing this warning. Do NOT read it if these subjects affect you in any way detrimental to your mental well-being. I’ve been as delicate with this subject as I can and it was not easy to write the second half of this chapter, but there are issues which I feel need to be addressed that will never be shown on the show, so that being said …

 

        Rumpelstiltskin watched his little caretaker through slightly narrowed eyes as she flitted about the kitchen, rinsing their dinner plates and loading them in the dishwasher before moving on to store their leftovers in the refrigerator.  She was a bundle of nervous energy in spite of her weariness and he had no idea how she kept going.  He’d seen the dark shadows beneath her eyes, a sure sign that she hadn’t slept well the night before.  One more thing he could add to his list of faults.  If he hadn’t lost his memories, surely her burden wouldn’t be quite so heavy.

 

        He was at a loss as to what to do with himself, preferring to remain in her presence, but wondering if that was something he normally did.  He sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose against the dull ache which had settled behind his lids, the pressure bearable, but still uncomfortable.  They flew open as she set a glass of water and two small tablets on the table in front of him.  “What -?”

 

        Belle rubbed his shoulder gently, her deft fingers moving along the muscle to knead at the back of his neck.  “Aspirin.  They’ll help with the pain … until you can take your prescribed painkillers at bedtime at least.”

 

        “How did you know -?” he asked tentatively as he reached for the pills and swallowed them down with the cool water she’d poured from the tap. Gods, she was beautiful, he thought, losing himself in her crystalline gaze. 

 

        “You’ve been rubbing at your neck and pinching your nose for the past hour,” she admitted, returning to the sink to wipe down the countertops.  “So, what would you like to do tonight, Rumpel?” she asked, smiling at him over her shoulder as she finished up her chore.

 

        His brow furrowed a bit in confusion.  “What do you mean, dearie?”

 

        Belle inched closer to him, her hands smoothing over her skirt to resist the urge to reach out and card her fingers through his hair.  “Well, it’s still early,” she said, gesturing to the clock hanging on the wall.  “Barely seven thirty.  We could play a game, read in the library, watch a movie … what sounds good to you?”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin licked his lips nervously, his gaze darting up to meet hers.  “Belle, it’s Friday night.  Pretty girl like you … don’t you have a date?”

 

        She shook her head slowly, her smile never faltering.  “Nope. I don’t have a boyfriend.”

 

        “A night out with friends?”  Again she shook her head and he sighed.  “I don’t want to stop you from having a social life.  I’m sure you have better things to do than spend the evening with me.”

 

        “I enjoy spending time with you, Rumpel,” she said softly, her hands fidgeting, her fingers twisting in upon themselves.  “Now what should we do, hmm?”

 

        His features softened, a small smile quirking up the corner of his mouth as he stared at her.  He couldn’t deny the pleasure coursing through him at her sincerity and the honest claim that she wanted to spend her evening with him.  “You’re such an odd girl.”

 

        Belle emitted a warm chuckle and reached out to give his shoulder a gentle squeeze.  “Yes, I am, but it’s something you’ve always liked about me.  And,” she said, moving over to the cupboard to pull down a box of microwave popcorn, “since you can’t make up your mind, I will have to choose for us.”  The cellophane crinkled noisily as she unwrapped the popcorn and set it into the microwave, turning it on.  “I’ll handle this while you choose a movie for us to watch.”

 

        He pushed himself to his feet and leaned heavily upon the gold handle of his ebony cane until he was steady.  “Is there any particular movie you’d like to watch?”

 

        “Not really.  Whatever you choose will be fine, I’m sure.”

 

~*X*~

 

        Twenty minutes later he was certain she was regretting his decision as the masked villain with a butcher knife on the screen stalked after a pretty young co-ed, and Belle hid her face against his shoulder.  The bowl of popcorn lay forgotten on his lap as he wrapped a protective arm about her shoulder.  “Dearie, I can find another movie if this one doesn’t suit you.”

 

        Belle pulled the tartan throw away from her face, her eyes and nose the only thing visible as she once again focused on the screen.  “N-No, this is fine,” she stammered, wishing she hadn’t turned off _all_ the lights in the living room.  Horror had never been her favorite genre, but she couldn’t find it within herself to complain.  She was curled up against her husband’s side, his warmth radiating into her like a caress and she couldn’t imagine a place she’d rather be.  A scary movie and a week’s worth of nightmares was a small price to pay to have him this close to her.

 

         He shifted, sinking down another inch or two and adjusting his ankle on the ottoman with a sigh.  The ache in the swollen joint from being on it so much that day aside, he couldn’t remember being more at peace.  He knew the languor spreading through him had more to do with the warm weight of the girl pressed to his side than his position on the buttery leather sofa, however.  He’d have to be blind not to see the easy camaraderie which existed between them, he just couldn’t understand why it was so.  Dove had done most of the collections that morning while he quietly observed, but he’d seen the fear or outright loathing in the looks cast his way.  Why was Belle so different?  She cared for him, had freely admitted it to him earlier in the study.  She handled his home and his business with an ease which startled him considering she was only his caretaker.  She acted more as his wife.

 

        He glanced down at her nestled so snugly against him, her fingers dipping into the bowl of popcorn as the music swelled on the screen, the heroine running haphazardly across the street back to safety after finding her friends mutilated and most assuredly deceased in the neighbor’s house.  He’d chosen the movie in the hopes that Belle would wind up just where she was … in his arms.  Yes it was a selfish move, and even though he couldn’t remember who he was, he knew he wanted her there.  He’d been honest with her earlier when he’d told her he wasn’t a good man.  Deep down, he knew it without a doubt.  She really did deserve better than spending her evening with the town monster.

 

        Rumpelstiltskin pushed his troubling thoughts aside and tried to focus on the movie, cringing when the heroine stabbed the serial killer in the neck with a pair of knitting needles.  He glanced down at Belle again, noticing she hadn’t jerked the throw up over her face this time.  It was then he heard the soft snores coming from her slightly parted lips.  A half-moon grin curled his lips as he brought his fingers up to brush the hair away from her brow.  Her skin was like silk beneath his touch and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like beneath his lips.  He jerked his hand away, balling it tightly into a fist to avoid further temptation.  Where had that thought come from?

 

        He reached for the remote, lowering the volume on the TV so as not to disturb her slumber.  She worked entirely too hard if today was an example of her normal routine.  She deserved her rest, though he knew she’d rest more easily in her own bed.  It was purely selfish to keep her down there with him when she was so clearly exhausted.  He switched on the lamp and turned off the large flat screen before shaking her gently.  “Dearie?  Waken up, Belle.  Come on … time for bed.”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin sucked in a sharp breath as she snuffled softly in her sleep and pressed her face against his neck above his collar, her lips against the oversensitive skin just below his left ear.  His dark ocher eyes slammed closed, a choked whimper escaping past his parted lips as a surge of white hot lust pooled low in his belly.  What was this little slip of a girl doing to him?!  He had to stop her before things got out of hand … or in hand … as the case may be as her arm wrapped firmly about his waist.  Things were going to be awkward enough when she regained full consciousness and realized she was curled up next to him instead of whatever handsome beau she was dreaming about.

 

        “Belle?” he croaked helplessly, fighting against the myriad sensations racing through his body, the pain in his ankle completely forgotten.  “Belle, dearie, you need to waken up now.”

 

        She uncurled her arm from about his waist and slowly slid it upward over his chest, settling it against the other side of his neck, her thumb brushing back and forth over the hollow of his throat.  “Not yet, Rum,” she murmured sleepily.  “Five more minutes, hmm?”

 

        He made a choked sound in the back of his throat, the realization that she was coherent enough to know she was in _his_ arms leaving him incapable of speech.  Not to mention the fact that she seemed to _want_ to be there.  “B-Belle?”

 

        Belle grumbled incoherently and pressed closer, her hand slipping around beneath his hair to curl around his nape.  “I fell asleep again, didn’t I?” she asked with a regretful sigh as she eased away from him.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t make you uncomfortable?”

 

        “Uh …”  _Not in the way you’re thinking!_ “No … not at all,” he stammered as she rose to her feet, grabbing his cane and offering her free hand to help him up.

 

        She bit becomingly at her lip and he prayed he wouldn’t embarrass himself when he rose next to her.  Thankfully, the lamp on the end table did little to illuminate the room, giving him time to get his wayward urges under control once more.  “I suppose I was more tired than I’d thought.”  She let go of his hand and backed towards the door.  “I’ll just go up and lay out your pajamas.  See you in a bit.”

 

        He noticed the slight trembling of her hands as she hurriedly left the room and had to wonder if she’d been just as affected by their embrace as he’d been.  He scratched the back of his head, flummoxed.  _What the hell is going on?_ he mused as her tiny feet padded noisily up the stairs.

 

        When he finally made it up the stairs and into his room, his ankle protesting with every step, the bed was turned down, his pajamas folded neatly atop his pillow and a glass of water and a painkiller were resting on the nightstand.  “Did you need anything else, Rumpel?” she asked, inching towards the door.  She seemed nervous, not a look he had come to associate with his brave little caretaker.  “I’ll call Dr. Whale’s office Monday morning, and see if he can call in a refill since you’re running low.  Knowing him, however, he’s going to want you to come in for an office visit.”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin screwed up his face as if he smelled something rotten.  “Must I?”

 

        “Wouldn’t hurt, Rum,” she said softly, smiling up at him patiently.  “Don’t worry, I’ll go with you and hold your hand,” she teased.  Taking a chance, she leaned up on her toes and kissed his cheek.  “Goodnight.”

 

        “Goodnight, Belle,” he whispered, his smoky gaze following her out the door before his hand raised to touch his cheek where her lips had grazed ever so softly. 

 

        Belle drew in a deep shuddering breath as she leaned on the closed door of her bedroom, scrubbing her hands over her face.  _What the hell am I doing?!?_ she chided herself.  She pushed herself away from the door and began to undress on her way to the shower, making sure to lock the door between the bathroom and Rumpelstiltskin’s bedroom.  She hadn’t meant to fall asleep on him, really.  It was just a natural occurrence with them and it had been so long since she’d been able to just revel in the pleasure of her husband’s embrace.  Yet, it was going to do nothing but confuse the poor man.  He didn’t know they were married, that she had every right to curl up in his arms if she wished.  _Ugh!!!_

 

        She let the hot water cascade over her head, its soothing heat chasing away the stress of the day.  He was going to have so many questions for her on the morrow and she just didn’t know how she was going to answer him.  It was the weekend, however.  Perhaps she could find something … some activity to distract him.  A slow smile curled her lips as she reached for the lavender scented shampoo in the shower caddy.  She might have just the thing.

 

~*X*~

 

        _“And just what the hell am I supposed to do with this, Rumpel?!” Milah fumed, shaking the drawstring bag at her husband, the meager coins within jingling noisily.  “You can’t mean to tell me this was all you made at the market!”_

_Rumpelstiltskin ducked his head in shame, his fingers tightening about his walking staff as he shrunk away from her temper.  “P-Please, Milah, you have t-to understand_ _… it was a slow day and_ _–“_

_She cut him off, the bag of coins digging sharply into his cheek as she threw it at him.  “More likely the people don’t wish to buy their wool products from the village coward!  You’re pathetic, Rumpel!  And to think I’m stuck with you,” she sneered._

_“Please, Milah,” he murmured, his voice filled with pain he tried so valiantly to hide from her.  If she could see his weakness, she would simply exploit it for her own purposes.  “Not in front of Bae.”_

_“Why not?” she snarled, her lip curled in disgust.  “Best he learn early that his father is a useless coward.”  She bent to retrieve the coin purse she’d thrown at him and shook the few silvers out into her hand, thrusting it beneath his nose.  “Look!  Not even enough for a few pints of ale at the tavern!”_

_“P-Perhaps you could stay here_ _… with us_ _… instead of drinking this evening.”  He knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment the words passed his lips.  Her fingers dug mercilessly into his flesh as she gripped his jaw in her hand, her nails leaving behind little half-moons and causing him to hiss sharply at the pain._

_A mocking laugh issued from lips he’d once found desirable.  Now as they spewed forth ridicule and hatred, he wanted nothing more than to run and hide.  “Why would I want to stay here with you, Rumpel?  You’re pathetic_ _… useless_ _… worthless_ _… a coward!”_

Rumpelstiltskin whimpered softly in his sleep, his hair matted to his head as sweat beaded on his brow.  His lips parted in terror as he thrashed upon the silken sheets of his bed.  Long fingers twisted in the bedding and he was able to breathe again as the scene in his subconscious changed.  The respite didn’t last for long, however.

 

        _“Love is weakness, Rumpel,” Cora said, her voice soft as she stared up at him sadly, pity in her dark eyes.  “I can’t go with you when I can stay and one day be queen.”  There was little chance of that, but she had to try._

_He could feel his heart break as he gazed down at the woman he loved, knowing she was slipping away from him forever.  “You don’t mean that.”_

_“I’m sorry, Rumpel.”_

He tossed and turned upon the down mattress, his knuckles rapping sharply against the wood of the headboard, but the sharp stinging wasn’t enough to expel him from the nightmare that strove to drive him to madness.  The silk of his pajamas clung to him as cold sweat beaded on his skin, his blood turning to ice in his veins and he shivered.  His mind was helpless to defend itself against the memory forcing its way to the surface, leaving him nearly paralyzed with terror.

 

        _Rumpelstiltskin’s body trembled as he sat in the cage, no better than an animal, his back pressed firmly against the wire mesh.  No light permeated his prison, the pitch blackness coiling about him like the darkness in his soul.  A fresh wave of tears spilled over his lashes and he angrily wiped them away.  No Bae_ _… No Belle_ _… no hope, repeated over and over within his fragile mind.  He prayed for death.  Surely the damnation that awaited him for his sins couldn’t be worse than being the witch’s prisoner.  She had taken his son from him, tricked him into giving his own life and now he had nothing.  He was tainted, fouled, unfit for anything that had ever been good in his life.  He was undeserving of happiness and he was certain never to find it as Zelena’s slave._

_Unclean_ _… tainted_ _… foul_ _… vile_ _…_

_His long spinner’s fingers pulled roughly at his hair as he rocked back and forth, the madness of grief coursing through him.  The Dark One whispered in the back of his mind, berating him for ever letting the witch get her hands on his dagger.  He was weak, unworthy to host the demon, unfit to wield his power.  The breath froze icily in his chest as the cellar door creaked open, spilling meager light into the room.  She was coming, and she was angry.  He could feel it through the connection of the dagger to his mistress.  What unspeakable horrors did she have in store for him now?  He was filthy, broken, bereft of his free will, and deprived of his loved ones.  Hadn’t he suffered enough?_

_Zelena pressed her face close to the cage, her eyes bright with excitement, her ruby lips stretched wide into a malicious grin.  It didn’t fool him into believing she meant him no harm.  She_ always _meant him harm.  “Well, well_ _… what a naughty pet you’ve been,” she sing songed, causing a tremor or fear to skate down his spine.  “I really wish you would cease these pathetic efforts to escape me, Rumpel.”_

_His back pressed harder against the cage, the mesh surely making an imprint on his skin through his bedraggled suit.  He ground his teeth together, focusing on a memory of Baelfire as he tried to block her out.  Be brave_ _… be brave_ _… be brave.  Belle would want him to be brave. Belle_ _…_

_“Pay attention!” she snapped, realizing he was once again lost in the quagmire of his thoughts.  “Stand up, doll.”_

_The witch held the dagger tightly fisted in her hand and he was powerless not to obey its command.  He shuddered as she threw open the door of his cage and came to stand before him, her free hand moving to caress his chest.  He could feel her breath on his face as she leaned in, and he turned his head, seeking to escape her.  Her lacquered nails dug fiercely into his jaw as she turned his face back to meet her gaze, and he bit the inside of his cheek to forestall the yelp of pain it caused._

_“Always so disobedient, pet,” she purred, releasing him to brush his shaggy hair back from his brow.  “Do you like being punished?”  When he didn’t respond, she fisted her hand in his locks.  “Answer me!”_

_“No,” he said, his voice a ragged whisper.  “No, I don’t like being punished.”_

_Zelena seemed satisfied with his answer and resumed her petting.  “I just don’t understand you, Rumpel.  I provide a place for you to spin, to sleep, three meals a day, and yet still you’re ungrateful.”  She tittered a laugh and he could feel the bile churn in his stomach in abject revulsion.  “When are you going to realize_ _… you belong to me now.  Your mind, your body, your will and your_ _–“_

_“You will never touch my heart,” he snarled, his eyes black with barely suppressed rage.  No one would ever hold his heart_ _… no one but Belle.  “You murdered my son!  You’ve taken everything I’ve ever loved.  You will not hold my heart,” he gritted out through clenched teeth._

_The witch shrugged.  “Well, three out of four ain’t bad,” she snickered.  She paced around him, leaving him to face the open door of the cage, confident in the fact that he couldn’t flee.  It was psychological torture to have an avenue to escape wide open before him and yet powerless to take the first step towards freedom.  “And I haven’t taken everything, Rumpel.  I did promise I’d let your little milkmaid live.  The question is_ _… why would she want you after I’ve had you all to myself for so long?”_

_His heart wrenched painfully in his chest as he bowed his head in shame.  Why would Belle ever want him again when he was tainted by the witch’s touch?  She was good and pure and perfect, his light in the darkness and Zelena had made certain he wouldn’t be fit to kiss her feet if he were ever freed from his prison._

_“Hmm,” she hummed, coming to stand before him, a wicked gleam in her eyes.  “Yes, yes, I think that will do nicely.”  She leaned in closer, her breath ghosting over his ear.  “Lie down, pet,” she commanded, giving him no choice but to obey._

_He broke out in a cold sweat as the dagger’s compulsion forced him to lie down on the cot in the corner of his cell.  His eyes were wide with fear as he watched her free hand travel the length of her body from breast to thigh, her eyes darkening with desire.  He shook his head in denial.  “No_ _… please.  Please don’t do this_ _… not again,” he pleaded._

_She banished his filthy clothes into the ether against his protests, leaving him exposed to the cool damp air in the cellar.  He turned his head, unable to bite back the whimper that clawed its way from his throat.  Already tendrils of green smoke wormed its way up his body, molding his flesh with magic to prepare him for her._

_Her lips found his ear once more as she settled over him, her hands roaming over his body.  He breathed heavily through his nose, willing away the nausea her touch evoked within him.  “You should have chosen me, Rumpel.  You should have loved me.  Think of how powerful we could have been together.”  She laughed, the sound piercing him.  He turned his head to the side, her magic making it impossible to move away from her, to reject her.  Instead he closed his eyes, willing his mind to another place, another time_ _… a time where he’d once been happy with Belle and Baelfire.  “Oh no you don’t, pet,” she sneered, her nails digging into his chest.  “You will look at me while I fuck you and know you belong to me.  You will know that your precious little Belle will never want you now.”_

_He couldn’t stem the flow of tears which leaked from the corners of his eyes to drip into his hair as a choked sob burst past his lips.  He was surrounded by her scent, her heat, her touch, cloying at the vestiges of his sanity as he wept in despair.  Touching_ _… touching_ _… touching_ _… until he prayed for it all to end.  But there was no hope for him._

~*X*~

 

        Belle sat bolt upright in bed, struggling to free herself from the duvet twisted about her torso as she listened for the sound that had jerked her from the light sleep she’d fallen into.  She’d never been a heavy sleeper, and when she’d been taken by Regina so many years ago, she’d found it wise to never let herself fall into a deep sleep.  After so many years of that, the slightest sound would pull her to full wakefulness in the space of a heartbeat.  She wondered briefly if Rumpelstiltskin had called out to her in his sleep.  Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she sat there on the edge, her ears trained for any noise.

 

        She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the loud thud against the hardwood in the room next to hers.  Her feet hit the floor at a run, fearful that he’d hurt himself.  She threw the door open to the master bedroom, the knob banging into the wall as she rushed into the darkness, her fingers frantically searching for the light switch.  The bed was empty, his cane still resting against the nightstand beside it.  “Rumpel?” she called softly.

 

        It was then she heard it, a muffled whimper.  She rounded the bed to find his back against the nightstand, his knees drawn up to his chest.  His hands pulled roughly at his hair as he rocked, tears streaming down his face.  “No, no, no!  No more!  Please, no more,” he cried over and over.

 

        Belle covered her mouth with both hands, tears beginning to sting her eyes.  She’d dealt with this before.  After he’d finally been set free from Zelena’s control, he’d been plagued with nightmares.  It had gotten a bit better when she’d convinced him to see Archie, but she knew it hadn’t been easy for him.  Rumpelstiltskin was a proud man.  He didn’t trust easily – if at all – and now he was reliving his terror once again, trapped within his mind with only her to comfort him.

 

        Very carefully, she crouched down before him and pulled his hands away from his hair.  She made soft shushing sounds in an effort to calm him, but he still startled at her touch.  “It’s alright, Rum, it’s alright … I’m here.”  He tried to pull away from her, but she held firm, her thumbs tracing soothing little circles over the backs of his hands.  “It’s ok.  Listen to my voice, Rumpel,” she crooned.

 

        He wrenched one of his hands out of her grasp and pulled at his shirt, the buttons straining beneath his fierce grip.  “Dirty … so dirty … I can still feel her,” he cried, turning his tortured gaze up to her.  “Dirty … unclean … tainted … wretched …”

 

        _Oh Gods!  Why did it have to be this nightmare?_   She remembered the first time he’d had it.  She’d had to call Archie at three in the morning to come and talk him down from his terror.  Fortunately, she knew from previous experience just how to help him.  “It’s alright, Rum.  Come with me, ok?  We’ll get you clean.”

 

        He was so lost, still trapped somewhere in his mind, his gaze unfocused, but the soothing lilt of her voice begging him to trust her somehow penetrated the haze of terror surrounding him.  She coaxed him to his feet, wrapping his arm over her shoulders as she led him to the bathroom, allowing him to lean on her instead of his cane.  She never released his hand as she leaned into the large shower stall and turned on the spray.  His hands shook so badly, he couldn’t unfasten the buttons on his pajama top.  Belle brushed his hands away and set to work to free him from his sweat soaked clothing, all the while murmuring soft words and reassurances to him.

 

        Normally, she would have stripped off herself before stepping into the shower with him, but under their present circumstances, she didn’t want to give him yet another shock.  His hands settled on her hips to steady himself as she reached for the bottle of body wash, letting the hot water spray over his back.  His skin was cold and he hissed as his body adjusted to the warmer temperature.  She lathered up the washcloth and gently dragged it over his skin, his dark ocher eyes following her every movement.

 

        “See, my love,” she cooed.  “You’re not dirty.”  His gaze was slightly more focused now as she scrubbed every inch of his skin and then beginning again.  It didn’t matter that she was soaking wet, standing in the shower with him in a pair of pajama shorts and a black tank top.  He needed her touch to ease away his terror, her reassurances that he was safe and loved and wanted.  She washed his hair, taking extra care to prolong the experience.  He loved her hands in his hair, her nails scratching gently against his scalp.  When the last of the soap bubbles disappeared down the drain, she pulled him into her arms.  “All clean, my love, all clean.”

 

        She bit back a startled gasp as his arms wrapped about her waist, clinging desperately to her as he buried his face in the crook of her neck and sobbed.  Her tears joined his as she held him tightly, lost in the hot spray from the showerhead.  “Belle …” he wept, her name the only sound to pass his lips.

 

        He reveled in the feel of her pressed against him.  Belle was safety and warmth, comfort and understanding.  She was his lighthouse amidst a storm tossed sea, guiding him home.  Her hands carded through his dripping hair and roamed gently over his body in a soothing caress and he never wanted to let her go.  She would never abuse him. Her voice was soft and gentle, comforting and soothing away his fears.  There was love in her embrace and he wanted to remain in her arms forever and a day.

 

        “You’re home, Rumpel.  You’re home and safe.  She can’t hurt you here … I won’t allow it.  No one will ever take you away from me again,” she vowed, stroking his wet hair until his tears subsided and the tension began to ease from his body.  “You’re safe, love, I promise.  Let me take care of you.”

 

        She reached behind him and turned off the spray, making sure he was steady on his feet before grabbing a towel from the rack.  She wrapped it about his waist and helped him out to lean against the vanity.  Quickly, she stripped out of her wet clothes and donned the royal blue brocade robe hanging on the back of the door next to his, pulling it on and belting it securely before reaching for another towel.  His eyes followed her, a haunted look in their depths as she dried his hair and ran a brush through the tangles as gently as possible.  She reached for his own robe and helped him into it before leading him back to the bedroom they’d once shared.

 

        He stared at the bed as if it were filled with vipers, digging in his heels as she tried to pull him towards it.  “Belle …” he murmured, shaking his head.  “I don’t think I can sleep.”

 

        “You need to rest, Rumpel,” she protested gently, cupping his face in her hand.  He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes.  “I’ll stay with you.  I’ll keep the nightmares at bay.”

 

        His stared at her for a long moment, fighting his fears.  Finally he nodded and shucked off his robe, the sheets cool against his bare skin.  Belle removed her own robe and picked up the shirt he’d discarded earlier, unwilling to climb in bed with him without something between them.  She didn’t trust herself to lie in bed with him, her bare skin pressed to his.  Even wearing his shirt, she knew she was borrowing trouble as she climbed onto the bed and pulled the covers up over them.

 

        She turned to face him, smiling slightly as he clasped her hands between them.  “Do you want to talk about your nightmare?  It might help.”

 

        He closed his eyes, his expression one of pain.  “It didn’t make any sense until the end.  She wouldn’t stop … stop touching m-me.  And I couldn’t stop her.  I was frozen and she … she …”  A tear spilled over his lashes to drip onto the pillow beneath his head.

 

        Belle pulled him to her, wrapping her arms about him and tangling her legs with his.  He shuddered, trying to quell his cries as his face came to rest against the hollow of her throat.  “It’s ok.  I know you don’t understand, love, but you don’t have to right now.  Once your memories return all will become clear.”

 

        “What if it was a memory instead of just a nightmare, Belle?  If that’s what I have to look forward to, I don’t know if I want my memories back.”  He fought against the slumber that pulled languorously at his mind, but he was no match for it and his body sighed into hers as he lost the battle.

 

        Belle held him to her, uncaring as to how many hours passed as she stared up at the ceiling.  What if his memories never returned?  Would it bring him peace to have a fresh start?  Three centuries of misdeeds, plotting, scheming, deal-making as he tried to find a way back to his son … it had have worn on him.  They weren’t all bad, however, and that was what kept her from finding peace in sleep.  He would never remember Baelfire, nor the love they’d found through a deal to save her kingdom.  Oh, Gods! What was she going to do if he never remembered? What would happen if they couldn’t recapture their love?

 

        She clung to him, her fingers carding lightly through his hair, tears spilling over her lashes.  Her heart clenched painfully in her chest.  “Come back to me, my love.  I love you, Rumpelstiltskin, and I won’t let you go without a fight,” she whispered into the darkness that clung to the corners of the room.  “Please, come back to me.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ok let the hate mail commence … you didn’t read the a/n at the beginning did you? Tried to warn you. This was a hard chapter for me to write, so you didn’t suffer alone. I will try to update this one again soon, but I have three others that need my attention as well, and my health, though it’s better than it was, is still making it hard for me to write. Please bear with me, yeah? Thanks so much as always for reading :D xoxoxox
> 
> Kudos to those who recognized what movie they were watching at the beginning of the chapter!!!


	5. Chapter 5

 

        The heavenly scent of plum, sakura blossoms and lavender teased Rumpelstiltskin’s nose as he stirred restlessly to wakefulness.  His arms tightened about her as he tried to burrow further into her embrace.  He wondered, should she wake, if she would withdraw from such a compromising position.  He was in no hurry to find out.  Belle’s arms were wrapped securely about his shoulders, one hand woven into the hair at his nape as she cradled his head to her bosom, one long leg draped over his hip.  He smiled faintly against the skin revealed by the shirt she wore, his lips pressed against the smooth slope of her breast.  He sighed, reveling in the warmth and comfort she offered.

 

         He’d slept fitfully, on and off throughout the long night.  More dreams had risen to the surface of his subconscious, but they were lost to him like wisps of smoke as he sought to cling to them.  His inability to remember his past irritated him greatly.  Despite the horrors that awaited him – judging from the nightmare he’d suffered – he desperately wanted to remember.  One thing he stood out clearly from the haunting nightmare.  The witch had mentioned Belle, taunted him that she would never want him again.  Why would his psychotic captor think Belle had feelings for _him_?  Yet, even now, he could sense how deeply she cared for him.  If she didn’t, he doubted she would have rushed to his aid in the wee hours of the morning and provided such gentle care.

 

        She’d called him _my love_.  Did she love him?  He heaved a frustrated breath and once more closed his eyes, trying to will his memories to the forefront of his mind.  He _needed_ to remember.  It was enough to drive him to the brink of madness.  If he couldn’t remember, surely Belle could provide the answers he sought.  Why wouldn’t she just tell him?

 

        As if she could sense his distress, even in slumber, her arms tightened about his shoulders as she rubbed her cheek against his crown, the heel of her foot pressing against his buttocks to draw him in closer to her.  “Shh, go back to sleep,” she murmured drowsily.

 

        His cock twitched where it was nestled snugly against her hip, and he groaned.  Heat flooded his body, the low thrum of desire pooling low in his belly.  Why did she alone have the ability to invoke such lustful urges in him?  The women in his nightmare had caused a myriad of emotions in him – hopelessness that he’d never regain Milah’s love, heartbreak that Cora would choose power and position over him, and then abject terror as he was forced to be Zelena’s slave – but not the deep feeling of acceptance Belle seemed to project.  She made him want more than he thought he deserved.  He didn’t feel as though he should be happy, though he couldn’t fathom the reason.  Belle deserved so much more than a broken shell of a man.

 

        Belle yawned and disentangled her hand from his hair to trail her fingertips over the side of his face in a soft caress, smoothing away the deep lines which wrinkled his brow.  “Rumpel, I can practically _feel_ the gears grinding in your head.  Relax,” she whispered, her voice a comforting caress to his frazzled nerves.  “Stop thinking so hard and rest.  Nothing can hurt you here.”

 

        He tried to free himself from her embrace, but she wouldn’t let him retreat, to close himself off from her as he was often wont to do.  “I don’t need your pity, Belle,” he hissed, unable to look at her and see it in her eyes.

 

        She pushed away the last remnants of sleep with an inward curse.  She knew she hadn’t had more than an hour or two of rest and it left her a bit cranky.  She couldn’t deal with his self-deprecating thoughts at the moment.  “Pity?  I don’t pity you, Rumpel.  I sympathize with you.  No one deserves to go through what you did at Zelena’s hands.”  She brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes and caressed his cheek with her thumb.  “Don’t be afraid to accept comfort from me.”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin raised his sable gaze to hers, able to see quite clearly the sincerity shining in her own.  It didn’t make him feel any better.  “I … you shouldn’t have to see me like that.”

 

        “So I should just let you suffer alone?”  Belle shook her head.  “Not happening.  I won’t let you shut me out again, Rum.”

 

        He emitted a soft gasp as she leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, her hand curled loosely around his nape to hold him still.  She smiled, settling back against the soft down pillow before he could truly taste her.  “Why?” was all his befuddled mind could think to ask.

 

        Belle bit her lip in indecision, wondering how much she should tell him.  She wouldn’t lie to him.  Lies were at the root of their problems and she wouldn’t add more if she could help it.  Yet, what if he couldn’t accept the truth?  “I told you last night … I care for you, very much.”

 

        He stared down at her with wary suspicion as he propped his head in his hand.  “What aren’t you telling me, Belle?  You’re holding back and I don’t like it,” he admitted.  He gestured between them.  “Were we involved before my accident?  What exactly are we to one another?”

 

        Her brows drew together low over her eyes as she reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose, stalling for time.  “It’s complicated.”

 

        “How difficult can it be to define our relationship?  I know you’re not simply my caretaker, Belle,” he snarked dryly.

 

        Belle sighed.  “I don’t want to make things worse for you.”

 

        His face screwed up into a grimace, his eyes pleading with her to understand.  “I don’t know who I am, I have no family, no friends, it seems.  I feel so lost, Belle, please.  Please just be honest with me.”

 

        “I’m sorry, Rumpel.  I was just trying to make this situation easier for you to bear,” she said, laying her hand over his heart.  She was reassured by the steady beat beneath her hand, relieved that she didn’t have to fear losing him anymore.  “I understand how frustrating it must be for you.  When I lost my memories, everyone kept telling me how I needed to remember on my own when all I wanted was a straight answer.”  She smiled sadly.  “You were the only person who didn’t try to hide things from me.  I hated it that no one would be honest with me and here I am trying to do the same to you.”

 

        “So … you’ll tell me?” he asked hopefully, his expression brightening.

 

        She nodded, biting uncertainly on her lip.  She could see some of the tension ease from his wiry frame and she knew she couldn’t disappoint him.  “I didn’t lie when I told you I was your caretaker.  I _was_ , a long time ago … until I fell in love with you.”

 

        His eyes widened and the lines of stress around his mouth smoothed out as he stared at her disbelievingly.  “You love me?”

 

        “More than the wide world,” she said reverently, cupping his cheek in her small hand.  “But we haven’t had the easiest time.  We have too many issues – trust being the main one – to go into this morning.  Suffice it to say, you have a tendency to hide things from me. I get mad and leave mostly.”  She cringed.  “I’m a bit impulsive and brash at times.  I let my anger goad me into it.  It took us a long time to finally work things out.”

 

        “I see,” he said, though he didn’t really.  He could completely believe she would leave, just not why she would come back.  “And you’re now my … girlfriend?” The word sounded strange on his tongue.

 

        Belle shook her head, steeling herself for his reaction.  “No … your wife.”  He stared at her blankly.  “After you were freed from Zelena’s clutches you proposed.  We were married three months ago.”  Still, he remained silent, seemingly unable to process her revelation. 

 

        “Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked in a tone filled with hurt and betrayal.  “I thought I was alone.  I thought the only reason you were here was because I paid you a weekly salary!” He hooked his hand behind her knee and removed her leg from over his hip, flopping onto his back and putting more distance between them. 

 

        The stubborn woman refused to let him go too far and followed, pulling him back into her embrace.  “I’m sorry.  I just didn’t want to overwhelm you with too much.”

 

        He lifted his head from her shoulder and prized her hand from his chest, staring down at her naked fingers.  “If we’re married, why aren’t you wearing my ring?”

 

        A guilty flush stained her cheeks as she looked away.  Tears stung her eyes, making them glisten in the early light of dawn filtering through the curtains.  “I … we had an argument,” she began, trying to find the words to explain without revealing too much.  He’d think her insane if she started spouting off about a magic hat.  “I sent you away.  You left Storybrooke and I never thought you would return.  I regretted it almost immediately, but there was no way I could come after you.”  She brushed angrily at her tears.  “Then you found a way to come back to me and still I couldn’t get over my anger.”

 

         He frowned quizzically at her.  “What did I do to make you so angry, Belle?” he asked softly, knowing it would have to be something horrible to make her banish him from her life.  “Was I unfaithful?”

 

        “What? No!” she rushed to reassure him.  If there was one thing she didn’t have to worry about, that was it.  Her husband loved with his whole heart and nothing was more important to him than his family.  He’d spent centuries trying to find his son and then crossed realms to do so.  “No, you weren’t unfaithful.  But you weren’t honest with me.  You went behind my back and betrayed my trust.  It nearly ended in Killian’s death.  I felt I had no choice.”

 

        He stared at her in horror, unwilling to believe he’d almost killed someone.  He sat up and leaned against the headboard, scrubbing his hands over his face as he tried to collect his thoughts.  “Belle, why are you here?  If you don’t want to be with me … why pretend?”

 

        “Don’t you see?  I _do_ want to be with you.”  She took his hand in hers, entwining their fingers as she held his gaze.  “When you came back, you did something to show me you only wanted the best for me … for _us._   You showed me you wanted to be with me and have a family of our own.  I love you, Rumpel.  I didn’t need you to change our past to make our future possible.”

 

        “How -?”

 

        Belle smoothed away the lines of confusion on his brow with her fingertips as she smiled at him.  “It’s not important.  What matters now is that I want to try to make our marriage work.  I want you to get your memories back if only to remember our past together.  I want us to work through what tore us apart.”

 

        He brushed away a tear which had slipped past her lashes to trail over her cheek.  “And if I never regain my memories?”

 

        “I still can’t imagine my life without you.  I thought I’d lost you forever when you left … I can’t let you go now that I’ve found you again,” she whispered brokenly.  “Won’t you at least give us that chance?  I’m through with running, Rumpel.  I want the forever I promised you so long ago.”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin stared at her, his sable gaze filled with wonder.  She loved him … _loved him_.  This precious woman wanted him, wanted another chance with him and it was almost too good to be true.  Judging from his nightmare, he’d never been lucky in love.  What had he ever done to deserve Belle in his life?  He opened his arms to her and she didn’t hesitate to curl up against his side, her head coming to rest against his shoulder.  She hummed contentedly as her face pressed up against his neck and her arms encircled his waist.

 

        He dropped a kiss to the top of her head and smiled, the first true smile since he’d woken yesterday on the floor of his shop.  “I wish I could remember you, Belle.  I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

 

        “I know, and I’m sorry I hurt _you_ ,” she whispered, clinging to him as her hope was renewed.  “We’ve been given a second chance.  That’s all that matters.”

 

        He scooted back down in the bed and tucked the blanket over them, forming a warm cocoon.  His fingers stroked methodically through her long chestnut tresses, the repetitiveness lulling him back towards slumber.  He didn’t want to sleep, however.  He was afraid of having another bout with the nightmare which had reduced him to a terrified mass of quivering fear.  “Belle?” he whispered softly, not wishing to disturb her if she’d fallen back to sleep.

 

        “Hmm?”

 

        “W-Why would she … that horrible woman … why -” he closed his eyes and swallowed audibly as he tried to put voice to his anguished thoughts.  “Why would she do that to me?”

 

        Belle leaned up on her elbow so she could see him better in the dim light.  “Zelena?”  He nodded, his arms tightening about her, afraid she’d pull away from him.  Instead, she reached up a gentle hand to stroke his stubbled jaw.  “From what you’ve told me, both she and Regina were both your students,” she said, trying to answer his question in terms he’d understand without bringing magic into the equation.  “Her jealously over her sister, made her quite unstable and when it came time for you to choose between them for a special task you’d set, you chose Regina.  It didn’t help that Zelena fancied herself in love with you either.”

 

        “She said … when she … she said you’d never want me again after I’d been with her.”

 

        She brushed a tear away from the corner of his eye and leaned in to press her brow to his.  “I will always want you, my love.  Nothing she could have done would have changed that.  I knew you were being held against your will.”  Her lips brushed over his in a soft caress, causing his arms to tighten over her back and waist.  “I tried to free you, but her hold was too strong.  I’m so sorry.”

 

        “I don’t understand why you would want me.  I’m lost and broken and you deserve someone who is whole,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

 

        “My heart chose _you_ , Rum.  You are mine … as I am yours.  I love you so much … even the broken bits.”

 

        He curled against her, hiding a yawn in her hair.  “At least I know now why I feel so comfortable with you.  Your touch soothes and comforts me.  I feel as if we’re a part of one another.  I just didn’t know why before.”

 

        Belle trailed her hand over his chest and upwards to curl about his nape, her fingers kneading the tension she could feel in his wiry muscles.  “”See?  Even without your memories, you seem to sense me.  We’ll fix this, Rumpel.  Together, we’ll fix it.+” She dropped a kiss to the hollow at the base of his throat, a soft smile curling her lips.  “I would like you to talk to Archie this morning if I can get him to see us on a Saturday.  Will you consider it?”

 

        “He’s the psychiatrist you spoke of?” he asked, his brow furrowing with concern.  It had been difficult enough to talk to Belle about his nightmares.  He wasn’t so certain he could do the same with a stranger.

 

        “Archie is a good man and a well-respected doctor,” she said.  Hopper really was a good doctor, even if he did get his PHD from a curse.  “You’ve talked with him before about your nightmares.  He might be able to help you.”

 

        He sighed tremulously, his breath stuttering as he exhaled.  “Will you go with me?”

 

        Belle closed her eyes and nestled against his chest happily.  “I won’t leave your side.”

 

~*X*~

 

        When she woke several hours later, Belle felt as if she were floating on a cloud of contentment.  She could feel the warm weight of her husband’s body lying next to hers, his head resting on the same pillow.  His warm breath teased at her lips and she couldn’t bite back a smile as his familiar scent washed over her in a soothing caress.  For a moment she could pretend that he was whole and healthy with his memories intact, all of their issues resolved.  But alas, it was not to last as her eyes fluttered open. 

 

        His legs were tangled with hers, her hands clasped in his between them and a shy smile graced his lips as he whispered, “Hey.”

 

        “Hey,” she croaked, her voice raspy with sleep.  “How long have you been awake?”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin shrugged noncommittally.  “Doesn’t matter since I got to spend the morning in bed with you,” he said, reaching up to brush the hair away from her face with a gentle hand.

 

        “You’ve been watching me sleep?” she groaned, hoping against hope she hadn’t been snoring.  She blushed a rosy pink.

 

        The lines around his eyes deepened as he grinned at her and trailed his fingertips over the smooth line of her jaw.  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered huskily, his gaze moving over her face as if he were trying to commit it to memory.  “Belle?”

 

        She stared mesmerized, her gaze lingering on his mouth as she hummed in response.

 

        He hesitated, his thumb brushing lightly over her lower lip.  Finding his courage, he inched closer to her, his body coming to rest flush against hers.  “Would it be alright … um …may I kiss you?” he asked uncertainly, a small furrow creasing his brow as he waited for the rejection he _knew_ was inevitable.

 

        Her heart thundered so loudly in her chest, she was surprised he couldn’t hear it.  She freed her hand from his loose grip and threaded it through his hair, gently urging him forward.  He exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and pressed his lips to hers, capturing the upper between his own..  It was just as tender and chaste as the ones she’d initiated earlier when she’d been trying to comfort him, but it was so reminiscent of their first kiss, the one they’d shared in the Dark Castle before everything had fallen apart, it nearly brought tears to her eyes.  It just wasn’t enough to satisfy the raging fire burning deep in her belly.

 

        His lips pulled at hers as he attempted to draw away, but her hand firmly clamped around his nape refused to let him withdraw completely.  His breath stuttered as his eyes met hers, wonder alight in their dark ocher depths as she teased lightly at his lips, gentle sipping kisses to show him she was not adverse to his attentions.  She took advantage of his surprise, slipping her tongue out to meet his as his lips parted on a gasp, and he was lost to the mindless bliss she invoked in him, the blood singing in his veins as her hand roamed over the bare flesh of his chest.

 

        The room was silent aside from their labored breaths and the soft moans issuing from Belle’s throat as he tightened his grip on her waist and drew her closer.  It was little surprise that the ringing doorbell sounded like a canon blast in the tension filled silence.  Belle jerked away from him and he couldn’t stifle the small whimper that fought its way past his lips at the loss of contact.

 

        “Maybe they’ll go away?” he suggested hopefully.  Was it really too much to ask to spend the morning lazily in bed kissing his wife?  He was still a bit in shock that she _was_ his wife, feeling he didn’t deserve such a beauty with her kind soul and gentle touch.

 

        Belle groaned and gave him one more chaste peck on the lips before she threw back the duvet and left the bed, reaching for her robe.  “Not bloody likely in this town.  Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”

 

        He sighed with regret as he watched her flounce out the door and head downstairs before tossing back the covers and grabbing his cane where it rested against the nightstand.  He limped over to the dresser and rummaged through the drawers in search of a pair of boxers, quickly finding some as well as a pair of navy blue cotton sleeping pants.  He couldn’t help but wonder, as he padded slowly to the bathroom, how far things might have progressed if they hadn’t been interrupted.  He splashed cool water on his face and reached for his toothbrush, his mind desperately trying to sort through his muddled thoughts.

 

        Rumpelstiltskin shuddered as he thought of the things the witch had done to him in his nightmare.  Belle couldn’t be more different than his former captive.  Since opening his eyes as he’d laid on the floor of his shop with no memory, Belle had gone out of her way to be kind, caring and loving.  She’d done all in her power to set his mind at ease, guiding him into a sense of normalcy and answering his myriad questions to help him regain a sense of self he was sadly lacking.  Last night, he’d broken under the onslaught of the nightmare and she’d picked up the pieces and put him back together.  She was light in the darkness, so filled with love and compassion it made a lump of emotion swell in his throat.  He’d been ashamed of such a loss of control when he’d woken in her arms, and yet again she’d banished his fears and truthfully answered his questions.  Had anyone in his life ever tried so valiantly to protect him, he mused as he pulled on his robe and moved to the door of the bedroom.

 

        If they still had issues between them concerning their marriage, whether he could remember or not, he knew for a fact that he desperately wanted to regain her trust and be worthy of her love.  His heart fluttered in his chest at the thought of her easy acceptance of him and her willingness to help him remember despite their troubles.  He vowed to himself that he would make her happy at all costs, no matter what he needed to do.  She was worth fighting for.

 

~*X*~

 

        Belle quickly retrieved her iPhone from her room before hurrying downstairs to answer the door, dropping it into the pocket of her robe.  As much as she would have liked to have spent the remainder of the morning in bed with her husband, she knew it wasn’t a good idea.  She couldn’t allow her feelings to get in the way of making him feel better.  It always took such a toll on him when he had one of his nightmares.  After three centuries of misdeeds, she didn’t understand how he was able to sleep at all.  It would have been the height of selfishness to take advantage of him for her own personal pleasure.  She moaned softly as she made her way to the front door, her bare feet cushioned by the plush Persian rugs over the hardwood.  But it had felt so wonderful to wake in his arms, to hear his sleep roughened voice and be able to look deeply into the warm sable depths of his eyes..  Her belly tightened with a pleasant warmth as she remembered his hands on her skin.  She’d missed him so much.

 

        She scowled at the door, wondering which of the town’s needy citizens were on her front stoop ringing the bell impatiently.  Wrenching the door open, her face fell and she groaned.  “Oh, papa!  I missed brunch with you, didn’t I?” she asked, ushering him over the threshold and leading him down the hall to the kitchen so she could set the kettle to boiling for tea.  “I’m so sorry.”  After Rumpelstiltskin’s departure from Storybrooke, her father had insisted to the weekly brunch date at the diner to make sure she didn’t remain cooped up in the pink Victorian in her despair.

 

        “When you didn’t show, I wanted to make sure you were alright,” he said, depositing a take out bag from Granny’s on the island.  “I heard about Gold’s predicament.”

 

        Belle turned back to face him, waiting for the inevitable explosion of temper which usually accompanied a discussion about her husband.  She was surprised when it didn’t come.  “Uh … yeah.  He doesn’t remember anything about his past … not even me.”

 

        He patted her hand reassuringly.  “You know you can stay with me if you need to, my girl.  I have plenty of room at the apartment.”

 

        “I can’t leave him, papa … nor do I wish to,” she sighed, offering him a sad smile.  “I love him.  Despite everything that happened, that hasn’t changed.  He needs me now more than ever and I won’t abandon him.”

 

        “No one is saying you should.  I just want you to be aware of your options.”  He pulled her into a hug and Belle leaned on him for support.  She breathed in his scent, the comforting smell of flowers and fresh soil which clung to him teasing at her senses and reminding her of happier times in Avonlea.  “I want you to know I’m here for you, daughter.”

 

        She pulled away as she heard the light tapping of Rumpelstiltskin’s cane on the stairs.  “Thank you, papa.”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin stopped in the doorway between the hall and the kitchen, his brows drawing low over his eyes as he witnessed the embrace between his wife and the stranger standing comfortably in his kitchen.  “Belle?” he asked, willing for the moment to give her the benefit of the doubt.

 

        “Rumpel, come join us, darling.  I’ll fix you a cup of tea,” she said, turning the burner off beneath the whistling kettle.  “I’m sure you don’t remember, so I’d like to introduce you to my father, Moe French.”

 

        Moe smiled stiffly and nodded.  “Gold,” he acknowledged.  He held up a hand to Belle before she could pull a third cup from the cupboard.  “None for me, Belle.  I have a lot to do at the shop this morning.  I just wanted to bring you something to eat since you missed brunch,” he said, gesturing to the bag on the counter.  “I really must be going.”

 

        “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to join us for tea?” Rumpelstiltskin asked.  He didn’t know the man, but he was willing to put forth an effort for someone who obviously meant a great deal to his wife.

 

        “Some other time perhaps,” the big man said, leaning down to kiss his daughter on her cheek.  “Call me should you need anything, my girl.  I’ll see myself out.”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin sat down on one of the stools at the island and fidgeted with the handle of his cane as he watched her prepare their tea.  “I get the feeling he doesn’t like me much,” he mumbled more to himself than to her.  She heard him anyway.

 

        Belle shrugged, setting his cup before him as she reached for the bag of goodies her father had brought.  She delighted in the sweet sticky buns and went to retrieve plates from the cupboard.  “You and papa have never seen eye to eye, Rumpel.  For a long time, you believed him responsible for my death and took your anger out on him at every available opportunity.”

 

        He spluttered into his tea and coughed, setting the cup down and reaching for a clean dish towel to swipe at the little droplets which had splashed onto his robe.  “I beg your pardon?  Your death?”

 

        “Long story, so don’t ask.  It’s always been a touchy subject and I fear it will be even more so without your memories,” she reasoned, setting a plate before him.  “Things are better now between you, or they were before you left Storybrooke.  Hopefully, one day the two of you will be able to occupy the same room without wanting to kill the other.”

 

        He cast her a droll smile.  “Very funny, dearie.”

 

        She tore her sticky bun apart, piece by piece as they ate in relative silence before she remembered the phone in her pocket.  She scrolled through her list of contacts until she found Archie’s cell number and tapped the screen to make her call.  It didn’t take long for him to pick up.  “Hi, Archie … fine … yes, he’s as well as can be expected.  I hate to bother you on a Saturday, but is there any way you could see us this afternoon?  Really?  Thank you so much.  Yes, we’ll see you in an hour.”

 

        Belle set the phone down on the counter and frowned at the forlorn expression on her husband’s face.  She reached out and covered his hand with hers, not caring in the least that his fingers were sticky with the glaze from the sticky bun.  “Hey, are you alright, love?”

 

        He nodded, his gaze lowered to his plate and the half eaten pastry.  “I suppose.”

 

        She reached out and lifted his chin to meet her gaze.  “Archie isn’t going to judge you, Rumpel.  He’s here to help.  You are his patient, so whatever you decide to talk about with him will never be divulged to another person.  Don’t be nervous, ok?”

 

        He sighed as she pressed her brow to his, feeling her concern for him.  “It’s not easy for me to talk about this, Belle, even with you.  I can’t see myself talking about it with a complete stranger.”

 

        “Then it’s good that Archie isn’t a stranger,” she said confidently.  “You’ve already spoken with him about this, so he knows what to expect.”  At his questioning look, she explained.  “After you were freed from Zelena, we went to see him, hoping he could help you deal with the trauma you’d suffered.  Talking to him seemed to have helped you.  I’m hoping it will again.”

 

        “Alright,” he agreed.  He’d try anything if it dispelled the horrifying nightmares like the one he’d suffered last night.

 

        She leaned in to kiss his sticky lips before heading for the door.  “It shouldn’t take us more than an hour and then I’ll endeavor to make the rest of your day pleasant and relaxing.  Deal?”

 

        A slow smile curved his lips at her enthusiasm as he pushed his plate aside to follow her upstairs.  “Deal.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So now Rumpel knows the truth and is as confused as ever, but at least Belle was honest with him. Next chapter is Rum’s appointment with the cricket, Belle takes him clothes shopping and they leave Storybrooke behind to spend some time at the cabin. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Don’t hesitate to let me know, yeah? Thank you all for the reviews and kudos and follows and whatnots. They make me feel so loved. You guys rock!


	6. Chapter 6

 

        “Bollocks!!”  His curse was met with a giggle that in no way made him feel more secure. “Who in blazes taught you how to drive?” he roared from the passenger seat of the Fiat as Belle stepped on the gas and sent it shooting off down the blessedly empty street..  He hadn’t been overly concerned when Belle had suggested they take her car – even though he would rather have taken the Cadillac – nor had he felt the need for alarm as she backed slowly down the driveway.  However, when she’d gained the street and shifted into drive, all bets were off.  She drove like she were on the international speedway and he swore he could feel his balls pressing against the back of his throat as the momentum shoved him back in his seat.

 

        Belle giggled again as she took in his pasty complexion and his finely manicured nails digging into the dash.  “You did, Rumpel.”

 

        He tightened his seatbelt and gaped at her in affront.  “I most certainly did not.  If I had, you wouldn’t be driving like a bloody maniac.”  He clutched at the dash again as she swerved to miss the Davidson’s cat.  She reached over to pat his knee and breezed through a stop sign.  “Hands on the wheel, woman!”

 

        Her lips curled into an amused smirk, but she did as he asked.  “I wish you would just relax.”

 

        “I’ll relax when you let me out of this death machine,” he growled low under his breath.  “Why is it you don’t drive my car like this?  The night of my accident you drove nice and slowly.”

 

        Belle shrugged.  “I don’t know, really.  I suppose that land yacht just intimidates me a bit, being so big and all.  Have you not noticed that I can barely see over the steering wheel?  The Fiat you bought me for a wedding present is much more _me_.”  She patted the steering wheel fondly.

 

        Rumpelstiltskin grumbled under his breath, cursing his past self for ever letting her behind the wheel of a car.  “I still don’t see why you couldn’t have let me drive.”

 

        She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and cast him a furtive glance.  “Because you don’t like to drive the Fiat, darling.  You said there isn’t enough room for your ankle to be comfortable.”  She slowed to the speed limit and hurriedly looked both ways before turning onto Main Street.  She pulled up across the street from the diner where Archie Hopper’s office was located and killed the engine before turning to her rattled husband.  “Are you sure my driving bothers you so much, or are you simply nervous because we’re going to see Archie?”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin’s lips pressed into a thin line of irritation and she could see hints of his former self trying to peek through as he glanced between her and the imposing brownstone building.  He stared down at his hands folded around his gold handled cane where it rested between his legs in the cramped space.  “Perhaps a bit of both,” he admitted, his attempted smile more of a grimace.

 

        Belle’s heart clenched painfully as she unfastened her seatbelt and turned to him.  She wrapped her right arm around his shoulders and pressed her brow to his, her nose nuzzling against his own.  She held him for a long moment, allowing him to draw strength from her before she spoke in quiet tones meant to soothe him.  “It’s alright to be afraid of the unknown, Rumpel.  It doesn’t make you a coward; it makes you human.”

 

        He grasped her hand tightly in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.  “I’m doing this for you, my Belle.  I want so badly to remember you.  I want to be the kind of husband you deserve instead of this broken shell.”

 

        “No,” she said with a shake of her head as she gazed searchingly into his eyes.  “You’re doing this for you.  I’ve already told you … I will love you no matter who you are, memories or no.  This has to be something you want to do for yourself.” 

 

        He squared his shoulders determinedly and reached for the door handle, waiting for her on the sidewalk as she rounded the car and tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow.  They traversed slowly up the stairs to Dr. Hopper’s office, the lights dim in the reception area.  The door to his inner sanctum was ajar and he stepped out with a welcoming smile to greet them.  “Belle, Mr. Gold … please, come in,” he said in his usual stammer.

 

        Rumpelstiltskin arched a brow at the good doctor before casting his wife a skeptical look, clearly uncertain about the man’s credentials.  Belle squeezed his arm with her small hand and led him over to the plush sofa across from the chair Archie favored.  Belle eyed the doctor up and down wonderingly.  “That’s a new look for you, Archie,” she commented.

 

        Archie looked down at his charcoal pants and thin beige pullover, heat suffusing his cheeks.  “Um … yeah, I was helping Ruby and Granny with refreshments for the searchers when you called.”

 

        “I really appreciate you taking time on your weekend to see us,” she said demurely, settling back against the sofa as her husband twined his fingers with hers.  She could feel his apprehension in the small tremors in his hands.

 

        “Of course.  I told you anytime.”  He reached for the small cassette recorder on the table next to his chair and turned it on.  He’d transcribe the notes later and add them to Gold’s file.  “So please … tell me what brings you in today.”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin kept his lips firmly clamped together, his chin lowering and his hair falling over his brow as he closed himself off.    Belle took charge, not wishing to cause him any further distress.  “Do you remember the elixir Mother Superior made for me when I was suffering from amnesia?” she asked, giving the cricket a telling look.

 

        “Yes, I do.  Have you spoken with her about making one for your husband?”

 

        She gnashed her teeth together in vexation at the thought of the fairy.  “I did.  Unfortunately, she wasn’t willing to help.  I gave Rum the remainder of the elixir I had at the shop, but I wasn’t effective.  Or so I thought.”

 

        “You think his memories might be surfacing in his subconscious while he dreams,” he said, leaning forward to brace his elbows against his knees in his excitement.  “There are so many unexplored territories in the human psyche, and I have never known – from my own personal experience – how it would react to a mag-“

 

        Belle cut him off with a warning glare, cautioning him to refrain from any magical phraseology.

 

        “What I mean to say is there really isn’t any conclusive studies on how the mind would handle the effects of an experimental elixir.  It would be fascinating to do a study –“

 

        Rumpelstiltskin’s head popped up as he glowered at the man.  “I’m not going to be your guinea pig, Dr. Hopper!” he snarled, his teeth bared.  He glanced over at Belle and planted his cane firmly to lever himself up off the sofa.  “Belle –“

 

        “No one is going to study you, Rum.  Just relax.  We’re just talking for now ok?” she murmured soothingly.  It was her turn to glare at Archie.  “Isn’t that right, Archie?”

 

        “I didn’t mean to suggest … no, no … um …” he stammered.  He poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher and took a long drink.  “Mr. Gold, rest assured we won’t discuss any protocols that make you uncomfortable.”

 

        “I’m already uncomfortable just by being here.”  Gold gave the doctor a hesitant nod and settled back beside Belle, trying to calm himself and suffer through Hopper’s questioning for her sake.

 

        “So, tell me about your dream,” Archie encouraged.

 

        When Rumpel wouldn’t provide an answer, Belle stepped in to fill in the blanks.  “It was the same one as before.”

 

        “The one where he dreams of Zelena violating him,” he stated for the recording.  “And how did he react.”

 

        “How the hell do you think I reacted, Hopper?” he hissed, the shaking in his hands more pronounced, his lower lip quivering as he sought the words to make himself clear.  “I was her slave!  She taunted me,” he croaked, his voice heavy with the panic rising in his chest, his breath coming in labored pants as he remembered the nightmare with crystal clarity.  “She told me no one would ever want me a-again … Belle wouldn’t want me after she was … done with me.  Then … then she … she … touching! … touching!! … always touching!”  He turned to Belle, his eyes wide with fright as he clutched beseechingly at her.  “Make it stop!” he cried, his eyes pleading with her to help him.

 

        Belle pulled him into her arms, urging him to lay his head on her lap so she could comfort him, her fingers running smoothly through his soft hair.  “Shh, darling, it’s alright.  You’re safe … I’ve got you.”

 

        Archie reached out to touch his shoulder and Rumpelstiltskin flinched violently away from him, curling his arms about Belle’s legs and hiding his face in her lap.  “He’d gotten past this,” Archie said softly to Belle.  “He was doing so much better.  It must be the amnesia preventing him from remembering the steps he’d taken to overcome the trauma.”

 

        “I agree,” she said, reaching for a tissue from the box on the table to dab at her tears.  “What can I do for him now?”

 

        “How much has he remembered … if anything?”

 

        Belle continued to pet her husband, desperate to ease his pain.  “Just the one nightmare.  He sensed it was more of a memory, and isn’t quite sure if he even wants to remember any more.  I’m not going to lie to him, Archie.  If he asks, I’m going to do my best to answer his questions.”

 

        “I think that’s for the best.  You can never go wrong with the truth, even if it is sometimes painful.”  He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair for a moment.  “Have you thought about getting away from town for a bit, while he’s recovering?  I’m sure Madam Mayor has already requested his help with Emma’s new dilemma.”

 

        Belle sighed and nodded, casting him a disgusted look.  “Of course she has, and I don’t look for her to give up anytime soon.”

 

        “Mr. Gold mentioned owning a cabin deep in the forest.  Have you thought about perhaps taking him there?  Fresh air and peace and quiet would do him a world of good in his present state,” Hopper suggested.

 

        “I have thought about it.  At least it would give him something else to focus on, but is there nothing you can do for him?” she asked, breathing a deep sigh of relief to feel the quaking of her husband’s limbs lessen.

 

        Archie shook his head.  “I can’t prescribe anything for him at the present time.  If his memories are coming back to him through dreams, we don’t want to suppress them.  If we do, there’s a chance they might never fully emerge.  My best advice is to continue doing what you’re doing.  Be there for him, let him know you love and support him, ease him through the rough patches.  He needs you.”

 

        “Archie, I’ve read that sometimes hypnosis can be a big help in some cases of amnesia.  You used it on David when Abigail had gone missing and Snow was being held for her murder.  Could you try with Rumpel?” Belle asked, desperate to try anything to help him.

 

        Archie cast her a sympathetic smile.  “I need to think on that, Belle.  In his present state of distress, I fear his mind would suffer for it.  Perhaps in a few days, if he improves and wishes to undergo hypnosis, I could try.”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin groaned and tried to sit up, holding a hand to his damp brow.  “Belle?”

 

        “It’s alright, Rum,” she said, helping him to sit back against the sofa cushions.  “You just had a small anxiety attack.  You’ll be fine now.”

 

        He glanced sheepishly between his wife and the good doctor, his cheeks reddening as he lowered his gaze to his lap.  “I’m sorry, Belle.”

 

        “You have nothing to be sorry for, Mr. Gold,” Archie stated firmly.  “You’ve been through a great deal over the past year and a half.”  He poured a glass of water and handed it to his patient.  “As I was telling your wife, I’d like to see you in a few days, so please call and make an appointment when you feel ready.  If anything should happen in the interim, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

 

        Belle rose to her feet, a clear plan forming in her mind and bolstering her flagging spirit.  “Thank you, Archie.  We appreciate your help.”

 

~*X*~

 

        Belle handed Rumpelstiltskin another pair of jeans through the curtain of the dressing room and waited for him to pass the pair he didn’t like back to her so she could return it to the rack.  She flushed guiltily as she took his regular size and discarded it.  It was her own fault that he’d lost weight on his sojourn to New York.  If she were going to lose her temper and banish him, the least she could have done was make sure he had his bank card and some spare cash.

 

        He poked his head around the curtain, holding a pair of blue and white floral swimming trunks up between thumb and forefinger.  “What is this, dearie?” he asked with mild distaste.

 

        “They’re swimming trunks, Rumpel.”

 

        “I’m not wearing this,” he stated adamantly with an imperious sniff.

 

        Belle recognized the stubborn twist of his mouth which reminded her so much of the imp it sent a pang of longing rocketing straight through her.  She had no chance of winning if she tried to talk him into it.  She sidled closer to the curtain and peeked up at him through her lashes.  “Rum, it’s July.  The lake at the cabin should be the perfect temperature for a nice relaxing swim,” she purred in a sultry tone.  “If you don’t choose a pair of trunks … well I suppose we could always go skinny dipping.  I just didn’t know you were quite ready for that.”

 

        His throat worked convulsively as he swallowed, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.  He stared at her for a long moment, fighting his urge to haul her into the dressing room with him and kiss her senseless.  _Teasing minx!_   “Perhaps a solid color would suit me better?” he whispered huskily, his fingers curling tightly into the curtain.

 

        “I’ll see what I can find.”  She flounced off with a sway of her hips to peruse the rack for something more fitting, hanging the discarded pair on the rack.  After several minutes, she found a pair of black trunks with a three inch gold border about the waist and legs.  “Perfect!”

 

        If they were going to the cabin for a few days, she wasn’t going to have him gallivanting through the forest in a three piece suit.  She’d chosen five pairs of jeans in various shades of blue, three pullover sweaters, four button up shirts in several different colors, a few t-shirts and a pair of hiking boots that would help support his ankle if they did any extensive walking.  She wanted him to be comfortable.

 

        He’d balked at first over her idea to rusticate at the cabin, but with a little cajoling and a brand new deal – no less than four days at the cabin and in return she’d owe him the same amount of days at the shop – he’d finally given in.  Thankfully, Marco had agreed to help out at the library in her absence and Dove would handle things at the shop.  Dove was also busy that afternoon shopping for necessities and a long list of other things Belle wanted him to stock at the cabin before they arrived.  He’d been only too happy to do so.

 

        Belle grinned secretly at the tiny thrill of excitement coursing through her.  Four days … alone … at the cabin … with no bloody interruptions.  She was practically giddy with glee.  They would be able to work on their marriage.  This was their chance to get to know one another all over again, and she couldn’t wait.  She sauntered back over to the dressing room and thrust the trunks through to him.  “What about these?”

 

        She heard him grumbling as he took the proffered item from her.  “Well at least there are no insipid palm trees on these.”  He handed the jeans he’d just tried on back to her before trying on the bathing suit.  “Add those to the pile, Belle.  I like the way those fit,” he commented. 

 

        “Aren’t you going to let me see how they fit?” she asked after a moment and he still hadn’t emerged from behind the curtain. 

 

        “No.”

 

        “What do you mean, ‘no’?” she asked, her brow furrowing in puzzlement.  He hadn’t hesitated to come out and model his new selections before.  “Rum, what’s wrong?”

 

        His voice was muffled so that she hardly heard him.  “I feel too exposed.”

 

        “What was that?”

 

        When he didn’t answer, she whipped the curtain aside and joined him in the cramped stall, closing it securely behind her.  She drew in a sharp breath as she took him in, wearing nothing but the black and gold trunks, fiery desire blazing to life in her veins and heat pooling low in her belly.  She cleared her throat as she stepped behind him and peered over his shoulder, her eyes meeting his in the mirror.  “What’s wrong, my love?” she whispered, balling her fists at her sides to stop herself from touching him.

 

        His gaze dropped to the floor as he sighed in disgust.  “I don’t want to go swimming if I have to be so exposed.”

 

        Belle couldn’t help herself a moment longer and wrapped her arms about his waist, her hands splaying out over the flat plane of his belly.  “No one is going to see you but me, Rumpel.  But why would it matter?  You look wonderful.”  He still wouldn’t raise his gaze to the mirror again.  “Tell me what you see.  Look at the mirror and tell me,” she coaxed in a gentle tone.

 

        “I don’t need to look, Belle.  The only thing in the mirror is a lame cripple who shouldn’t be allowed to go out in public unless he’s properly clothed so as not to scar children and young maidens with his hideousness.”

 

        She tightened her arms about him and placed a soft kiss on his shoulder.  “Is this alright, Rum?” she asked, wanting his permission to touch him.  She never wanted him to feel as though he were forced to accept her caresses.

 

        With her heels, she was nearly as tall as him.  He could feel the soft swells of her breasts pressing into his bare back, the warm weight of her slender arms wrapped comfortingly about his torso and the softness of her lips as they teased his shoulder.  He was mesmerized by the sight of her as he raised his gaze back to the mirror.  He wanted nothing more than the comfort and pleasure of her embrace.  “Yes,” he said, unable to take his eyes off of her.

 

        Her nails traced little patterns over his heated flesh, a pleased smile quirking her lips as she noticed the growing bulge in his pants.  “Do you want to know what I see in the mirror, my Rumpel?” she whispered, her hands inching upward towards his chest.  “I see my husband, whom I love more than anything in this world or the next.  I see a handsome man with a strong, lean frame.  I see the man my heart chose.  I see nimble fingers that can bring me pleasure as easily as they write out the fine points of a deal.”

 

        “My leg –“

 

        “-- is a part of you.  I love every inch of you, Rumpel, even the scars,” she murmured, nuzzling her nose beneath his ear as her fingers stroked over his flat male nipples.

 

        She let her arms fall away from his body as he turned and pinned her to the wall of the dressing room, his eyes searching hers as his hands curled over her hips.  She kept her gaze trained on him, maintaining eye contact.  He needed to see that it was her, to know it was her touch, her warmth enveloping him.  It was one thing she’d learned quickly when he’d come home after his long captivity.  Slowly she let her hands trail over his arms to rest against his shoulders, waiting to see if he would give in to his desire.  He’d always desired her, with or without his memories.  No spell could mask true love for very long.

 

        Rumpelstiltskin looked uncertain as he leaned in and pressed his brow to hers, his warm breath fanning out over her lips.  She sighed happily and tilted her face up, offering herself to him.  His gaze darted hesitantly between her eyes and her lips, still puzzled as to why she would want him.  She lifted her hand to brush the hair away from his brow, cupping his cheek and applying just enough pressure to urge him closer, to close the distance between them and claim what he so desperately wanted.

 

        His cock twitched eagerly against her belly as his lips brushed sinuously over hers, claiming her lower lip between his own and sucking gently.  It was almost too much, yet not enough.  He was as close to her as he could possibly be, yet not close enough.  She consumed him, a raging inferno of everything in life he needed.  Belle was gentleness and warmth, comfort and love and he wanted her so much.  He thanked the gods for sending her to him and giving him a chance to share his life with her.  He whimpered softly as her tongue tentatively stroked against his, a coil of pure electricity rolling over him to settle at the base of his spine.

 

        Her fingers delved into his hair, her nails scratching pleasantly against his scalp.  She kept her kisses gentle, fighting against the urge to take control, to push him back against the opposite wall and ravage his mouth with lips, teeth and tongue until they were lost in a mindless vortex of desire.  She keened softly as his tongue glided over the roof of her mouth, pressing closer and reveling in the obvious evidence of his arousal.  Goosebumps erupted on her skin as he whispered her name reverently against her mouth, swallowing down his murmured whisperings with a sigh of pleasure.

 

        Reluctantly, she clamped down on the surge of lust spiraling through her and broke the kiss, smiling knowingly up at him.  “So … does this mean we can buy the trunks?”

 

        He breathed heavily against her neck as he rested his brow on her shoulder, trying his best to calm his raging need for her.  “As you wish, little minx,” he murmured, remaining in her embrace for a moment longer.  “I think you’ve convinced me.”

 

~*X*~

 

        By the time they’d returned home and packed a bag, it was late in the day.  She was still a bit piqued that Rumpelstiltskin had insisted on driving home, not wishing to ‘risk his life, nor what was left of his sanity’ on the short drive back to the house.  She’d brought his bags upstairs and dumped everything on the bed, rummaging through his new purchases to choose what she would pack for their stay at the cabin and leaving the rest to sort through when they returned.  Now, sitting next to him in the Cadillac as they pulled away from the house to begin their journey, she had to admit he looked extremely handsome in his dark blue jeans and white button down.  She could definitely get used to his new look, even if he only wore them around the house.

 

        “It’s getting late.  We could stop off at Granny’s and grab a burger if you’d like,” Belle suggested, settling back comfortably in her seat.  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so relaxed.  “Dove stocked the cabin for us, but I would rather spend time with you and worry about cooking for us tomorrow.”

 

        A small smile lit Rumpelstiltskin’s face as he turned towards her and reached out for her hand, his thumb brushing over her wedding and engagement rings.  He’d shyly asked her if she would wear them again and she wouldn’t deny him.  They were starting anew in their relationship and each of them seemed more than happy to take whatever steps possible to ensure their mutual happiness.  He’d promised to be honest with her and if there was one thing in the entire universe she knew for a fact, it was that Rumpelstiltskin never went back on his word.

 

        “With pickles?” he asked, lifting her hand to brush his lips over her fingers.

 

        “With extra pickles,” she agreed with a warm smile.  Some things never changed regardless of amnesia and apparently his love of pickles was one of them.  “I’ll order our dinner to go and we can eat at the cabin.  I’d really like to get out there before nightfall.”

 

        He nodded and pulled into any empty space on the street next to the curb, killing the car, getting out and rounding the front to help her out.  She tucked her hand in his and let him lead her up the front steps.  The diner was a hive of activity.  Henry and Ruby handed out food and drink to the members of the latest search party which occupied several booths next to the window where Mary Margaret sat rocking little Neal.

 

        Belle moved to the counter and perched upon one of the stools next to her husband as Granny came out of the kitchen and gave her a searching look.  “Belle, how are you, dear?” she asked, her eyes widening as they came to settle on Rumpelstiltskin.  “And what happened to you?  You raid a thrift store?”

 

        He gave her a dry look as Belle chuckled.  “We’re going up to the cabin for a few days.  Archie suggested it, and the forest is no place for his lovely suits,” she explained.  “Could we get a couple of burgers to go?”

 

        “With pickles, please,” her husband added.

 

        “Sure,” Granny said, writing their order down on her pad and taking it over to the window.  She returned a moment later and filled two takeout cups with sweet iced tea. 

 

        Belle took a sip and let her gaze wander over to the crowd by the window.  “How is the search going for Emma?  Any luck in finding her?”

 

        “No.  Unfortunately, she tricked that man of hers into giving her the dagger,” the woman said with a shake of her head.

 

        “What? Tell me you’re not serious,” Belle said, horrified to think Emma was running amok with no way to control her.  The savior was too knew to such power and couldn’t be coping well.

 

        Rumpelstiltskin’s brow furrowed as he tried to follow the conversation, his skin prickling at the mention of the dagger.  “What dagger?”

 

        Belle squeezed his hand and promised, “I’ll tell you later.”

 

        Henry slid onto the seat next to her and gave her a one-armed hug.  “Hi, Gr- um, Belle.”  His eyes grew wide as he took in his grandfather’s casual attire.  “Wow, Mr. Gold.  Nice duds.”  He leaned in close to his grandmother so he wouldn’t be overheard.  “Have you made any headway with Grandpa’s memory problem?”

 

        “Not really,” she said with a wry twist of her lips.  “We went to see Archie this morning.  It seems he’s getting flashes of memory through his dreams.  We’re hoping perhaps he’ll get enough where they all return, but we don’t know yet what will happen.”  She shook herself mentally and pasted a concerned smile on her face.  “So what happened with your mom?”

 

        He sighed dejectedly, thanking Granny when she set a steaming mug of cocoa before him.  “Killian is an idiot.”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin snorted.  “I take it you don’t care for your mother’s beau?”

 

        “That’s putting it mildly.”  Henry stared wistfully at his grandfather, wishing he could remember so he’d have someone who shared his feelings about the pirate.  “He refused to listen to mom – my other mom – and summoned her.  She had the dagger in her hand in less than five minutes.”

 

        Belle shook her head.  Emma would have been powerless to use magic against the dagger’s master.  “She used her feminine wiles against him, didn’t she?”

 

        “Yup.  Laid a big sloppy kiss on him and snatched it right out of his hand.”  He gestured to the group of men and women sipping coffee and waiting for assignments.  “We have everyone searching, but every time we seem to get close, she disappears.”

 

        Rumpelstiltskin took the bag and the check and left his seat to settle the bill, giving Belle a few more moments with Henry. 

 

        “What is it they expect to do once they are able to locate her?” Belle asked.

 

        Henry brightened considerably.  “Do you remember the cuff that rendered mom powerless?  The one Greg and Tamara brought with them when they came to destroy magic?”

 

        “Of course, but Rumpel died wearing it,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure her husband hadn’t overheard.

 

        “There were more,” he whispered conspiratorially.  “They were in the evidence room at the station.  It seems there were more of them in Greg and Tamara’s trailer.  While everyone was in Neverland trying to rescue me, Leroy and his brothers rounded up the contents of the trailer and stored it for Emma and mom to go through when we got back.  With everything that happened with the second curse and everyone going back to the Enchanted Forest for a year, it was forgotten.”

 

        “So you’re hoping to get close enough to slip a cuff onto her.  Brilliant!”

 

        “I thought so too, that’s why I suggested it,” he grinned.  “I’ve been watching the book closely, hoping a new story would write itself, but nothing’s come up.  I’m really regretting snapping that magical quill in half.  I could have fixed this.”

 

        Belle laid her hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.  “You didn’t know.  You were only trying to do the right thing.”  She’d been stunned to hear the news that Henry was the new author.  Thankfully, the two gossips she’d overheard in the ladies room yesterday hadn’t noticed her when she’d come in.  They probably wouldn’t have cared either way.

 

        The boy’s eyes sparkled and his lips turned up in a curious smirk.  “Belle?  Do you think the book might help spark Grandpa’s memory if you read it to him?  Like when Gram read to Gramps in the hospital when he was in a coma?”

 

        She stared at him in surprise.  “I-I don’t know.”

 

        “It’s worth a shot, don’t you think?”  Before she could respond, he rushed over to the table and grabbed his backpack, retrieving the story book and returning to her side, holding it out to her.

 

        “Are you sure you can do without it for a while?” she asked, hope springing to life within her chest.  Her gaze searched for her husband where he stood next to the door patiently waiting for her.

 

        Henry nodded.  “I think we could use Grandpa’s knowledge and cunning to get mom to listen to us.  If it works, that is.”

 

        Belle took the book from him and clasped it to her chest, a bright smile lighting her face.  “Thank you, Henry.  You’ve given me something I was in desperate need of.”

 

        “Yeah?  What’s that?”

 

        “Hope.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’ve got lots of stuff planned for our beloved Rumbelle during their stay at the cabin, but I have no idea how much I’ll be able to fit into the next chapter. So, I won’t even attempt to tell you what’s coming next. I do hope you enjoyed this chapter. I wanted to add a little humor before the angst. Belle’s driving and Rum’s reaction to it made me laugh. Hope you did too!! Thank you all so much for the reviews, kudos, follows and favs. You guys are so wonderful. If there is anything you would like to see happen, please leave me a msg in my ask box on tumblr or PM me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: As a birthday treat for my darling readers, I am posting BOTH of my updates today instead of on Friday!! I do hope you all enjoy, dearies!!

 

        Belle felt Henry’s storybook shift as she stepped off the bottom step.  Rumpelstiltskin, hands full of his cane and their takeout bag, couldn’t reach for her in time as she stumbled to the left and crashed into the man who’d just turned into the gate with a wee boy at his side.  “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she apologized, still not looking up as she retrieved the book from the path, hoping it hadn’t been damaged.

        “Belle!  Are you alright?” Her husband asked, his cane clattering to the cobblestones as he reached out to right her.

        “Yes, Rum, I’m fine.  I just – Will!” she squeaked, her eyes going wide.

        “S’alright, luv.  You can knock me over anytime,” he remarked with a cheeky grin.  “I was ‘oping I’d run inta you.”

        Belle cast him a warning look as she squatted down to be on eye level with the little boy at his side.  “Hi, Roland.  How are you?” she asked, using her greeting to him to forestall the inevitable.

        “Hi, Miss Belle.  I’m spending the day with Will.  Are you gonna come with us for ice cream this time?” He leaned close to her ear, his loud whisper carrying.  “Will only lets me get hot fudge when you come with us.”

        She bit her lip and nodded sagely.  “I can’t today, sweetling, but how about if I ask Will to allow you to have it just this once?”

        Roland clapped his hands and gazed adoringly up at her as she reached for Rumpelstiltskin’s cane and rose unsteadily to her feet.  She turned to her husband, recognizing the firm set of his jaw and the arched brow all too well.  “Rumpel, why don’t you put that in the car?  I’ll be along in just a moment … please?”

        He took his cane from her and nodded stiffly, giving the interloper a steely glance before moving to do as she’d asked.  She had hoped to avoid a scene, but of course the gods had it in for her lately.  The progress she’d made with her husband over the last forty-eight hours was surely shot to hell by one chance encounter. 

        Will opened the door to the diner, ushering Roland inside. “Look, there’s ‘Enry.  Why don’t you sit with him for a moment and then I’ll be in to order that sundae for you, yeah?”  As soon as the door closed behind Roland, Will turned to face Belle.  “Is it true?  You’re back with your husband?”

        “Did you think I was lying when I told you I was going back to him?” she asked, folding her arms over the book still held tightly in her grasp.  She’d been more than honest with him after she’d woken from the author’s fantasy world and realized what was most important to her.  “Will, I’m sorry.  You have been nothing but good to me … for me even.”

        “But?”

        “But you’re not Rumpel.”

        His jaw clenched as he stared down at her.  “And what are you going to do the next time ‘e breaks your ‘eart?”

        Belle smiled gently and reached out to squeeze his hand.  “You’re a good friend, Will, and I enjoy spending time with you, but can you honestly say you love me?  I’m not Ana and you’re not Rumpel.  It’s foolish to think we can be happy without our true loves,” she said, repeating much of what she’d told him two days ago.  “I’m following my heart.  You need to do the same.”

        He watched her go, his expression grim.  No, he couldn’t say he loved her.  He’d never love anyone as he did Anastasia, but he knew he could have made Belle happy if given the chance.  She’d been a mess after she’d banished Rumpelstiltskin from Storybrooke and he’d been there to pick up the pieces.  He didn’t know if he could do it again when the former Dark One got his memories back and returned to his old ways.  It was just a matter of time before he broke her heart again.  He remained where he was until they’d driven out of sight, watching a little piece of his heart leave with her.

        Belle lifted the leather armrest in the center of the seat and slid over until she could rest her head against her husband’s shoulder.  She could feel the anxiety radiating from him.  His eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror before his gaze came to rest on her.  She was just waiting for the barrage of questions he surely had for her.

        She didn’t have to wait long.  “Who was that?”

        “Will Scarlet.”

        “I rather gathered that much.  Let me rephrase,” he said in a snarky tone she hadn’t heard since the darkness had been siphoned from him.  “Who is he to you?”

        Belle tilted her face up to him.  “Don’t be jealous, Rumpel.”

        “I’m not jealous!” he snarled.

        She arched a brow at him, not believing him for a second.  “Slow down.  Our turn is just ahead on the right.”

        He waited until he’d made the turn before repeating, “I’m not jealous.”  His hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel and the shoulder beneath her head was stiff with tension.  “I just want to know if I’m going to have to compete with him for my _wife’s_ heart.”

        Belle sighed and squeezed his thigh reassuringly.  “I was not in a good place when we parted, Rum.  Frankly, when I realized you couldn’t come back, I was a mess.  Will was a friend, nothing more.”

        “I’ll bet he _wanted_ more,” Rumpelstiltskin growled.  “I saw the way he looked at you.”

        “Perhaps, but I didn’t.  I didn’t even want to think about embarking on another relationship with someone … anyone … when you still had full possession of my heart,” she said, trying to make him understand how unstable her emotions had been weeks ago.  “He made me laugh, he took my mind off of my misery, and he was there for me.  Can you understand that?”

        Rumpelstiltskin stopped the car in the middle of the road and threw the gear shift into park.  He turned to her, his dark ocher eyes searching her face.  “ _I_ should have been there for you; not some bloody stranger.”  He took her hands in his, clasping them tightly.  “I wish I could remember why we fought, why you sent me away.  I just want to make things better between us.”

        A tiny little whimper escaped her throat at his earnestness and she leaned forward and pressed her brow to his.  “You are, Rum, just by trying so hard to be a good husband to me.  That’s all I’ve ever wanted.  _You_ are all I’ve ever wanted.  I just wanted you to choose me, to put me first.”  She pulled away so she could meet his gaze, a sad smile lifting the corners of her mouth.  “I’m just sorry it took a bout of amnesia to make you do so.”

        He reached up and cradled her face in his warm palms, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.  “I will never let anything come between us again, Belle, I swear to you.”  He pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss, smiling hesitantly as he pulled away.  “You’re my hero, y’know?  You could have turned your back on me when I woke with no memory.  Instead you brought me home and cared for me when it would have been so easy to just walk away.”

        She leaned into his touch as he brushed an errant curl behind her ear.  “Oh, Rumpel … I couldn’t leave you when you needed me so badly.  I just worry about when you regain your memories.  I wonder if I will still be so important to you.”

        He pulled her into his arms and stroked a hand over her hair soothingly.  “I don’t know what I did, Belle, but whatever it was, I was a fool to let it come between us.  I won’t let it happen again.  I _can’t_.”

        Her fingers twisted in his shirt as the tears flowed steadily from her eyes.  It didn’t matter that they were parked in the middle of the road, nor that their dinner was getting cold in the back seat.  This was the most honesty she’d ever received from him and she clutched at it like a precious gem and held it close to her heart.  He finally believed they could be together and find happiness.  His determination was like a ball of warmth which glowed happily in her chest.

        Finally, she pulled back and grinned sheepishly, reaching into the glove compartment for a packet of tissues she kept there.  He restarted the car and began weaving his way through the forest on the small two lane road as she settled her head on his shoulder once more.  Hopefully, their stay at the cabin would give them a chance to work on their relationship without any more interference.  She snorted.  Who was she kidding?

 

~*X*~

 

        Rumpelstiltskin used the key on the ring to unlock the door, surprised when Belle slipped past him and flicked on the light switch.  “We have power?”

        Belle rolled their suitcase into the bedroom and came back to join him as he set the takeout bag on the small dining table.  “We do, even way out here.  There’s a generator in the shed out back.  Dove gassed it up and turned it on when he delivered our necessities earlier.”  She looked about the room, noticing it had been cleaned.  The cold hearth even had the makings of a fire, needing only to be lit if they so desired.  She met his gaze with a searching one of her own.  “Are you hungry?  I can warm up our dinner.”

        He nodded and followed her into the kitchen.  “Can I do anything to help?” he asked, at a loss as to what to do with himself.

        Belle turned on the oven and reached for a pan from the cupboard below the sink.  “Um … not really.  I’m going to get this started and then unpack our things.  If you like, you can look around and maybe familiarize yourself with the cabin again.”

        His smile wavered a bit, but he left her to her work, not wanting to get in her way.  He ventured back into the main living area, the soft tap of his cane loud to his ears as it thumped against the hardwood floor.  The plush leather sofa and chair looked comfortable enough, arranged before the small hearth.  An assortment of DVDs were stacked along the mantle next to its player and a large flat screen TV hung over it.  He lost interest in that fairly quickly and wandered into the bedroom.  There was a comfortable looking queen size bed taking up most of the space, covered in a dark blue duvet to match the shams on the mountain of pillows.  A smile formed on his face, realizing Belle had made her presence known.  Lacy curtains hung at the two small windows in a lighter shade of blue.  Instead of a closet, there was an antique wardrobe and dresser.  He appreciated the beauty of the pieces as he reached for their suitcase to store their things away.  It didn’t take long and it would be one less thing his wife need worry about.  He found the only door in the room led to a small bathroom with a claw foot tub, toilet and vanity.  He arranged their toiletries in their proper places and left the room, finding his way out back to a long porch which spread out across the back of the cabin.

        He arched a skeptical brow at the hammock which was secured between two sturdy posts on one end, wondering if he and Belle had ever lain in it on a lazy afternoon.  He could easily imagine her curled against his side simply enjoying their time together.  There was a table and chairs with cushions of a dark burgundy where they could sit and enjoy their meal outdoors.  He skirted around that and moved over to a set of wicker sofas.  The cushions were a dark olive green, and he found he didn’t like the color at all, though he knew not the reason.

        He looked out over the placid lake spread over at least two acres of land, at the small dock and the tiny boat secured to it.  He supposed this was the lake Belle had referred to when choosing his swimming attire.  The sun was just beginning to set and he had to admit the tranquility of the scene eased his soul.  That ease was shattered as a hand brushed over the small of his back.  He startled so violently, his cane clattered to the planked floor and the blood froze in his veins.

        “Oh, Rum!!” Belle cried, setting the glass of iced tea she’d brought him down on the table.  She reached for him, smoothing her hands up and down his arms.  “I’m so sorry, darling.  I should have made more noise when I came outside.”

        Rumpelstiltskin dropped down onto the sofa and ran a shaking hand over his face.  “Belle …”

        Belle knelt before him, her bare knees scraping against the planked floor.  She knew better than to sneak up on him.  She hadn’t even been trying, but it had sent him into panic mode regardless.  It was one of the things she’d discussed with Archie when they’d first begun the steps to help Rumpelstiltskin recover from his captivity.  It was important for her to make noise in her movements about the house, to make it easy for her husband to know where she was at all times. 

        “Darling, look at me,” she commanded softly, taking his hands in hers.  She gave them a reassuring squeeze.  “Rum, it’s ok.  Breathe for me … deep breath … that’s it.”

        His face crumpled as he focused on her, shaking his head.  “I’m sorry … I’m so sorry, Belle,” he rasped quietly, burying his face in the crook of her neck as she gathered him in her arms.  “I-I didn’t mean …”

        “Shh, it’s ok.  You didn’t hear me come outside and I frightened you,” she explained, keeping her voice slow and measured to help calm him.  She smoothed her fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his nape.  His arms wrapped around her, his fingers twisting into the soft muslin sundress she wore, clinging to her as she continued to whisper nonsense against the shell of his ear.

        His voice was muffled against her neck and she had to ask him to repeat what he’d said.  He drew back and met her eyes, taking comfort in her steady gaze.  “I can’t stand to be touched, Belle,” he replied in an agonized whisper, gripping her more firmly as she tried to release him.  “Except … except by you.  Only you.”

        Rumpelstiltskin pulled her up off the hard deck and onto his lap.  She wrapped her arms about his shoulders and sighed in relief as he burrowed against her shoulder.  “I’ll always be here for you, Rum.  I won’t leave you again, I promise.”  She sat with him a few more moments, petting his hair until his breathing returned to normal.  “How about having dinner out here, hm?  I’ll light the lanterns and we can eat out here … nice, wide open space.” _Nothing out here to remind you of the cage._

        Reluctantly, he let her climb to her feet and disappear back inside to fetch their plates.  Belle bit her lip, leaning heavily against the counter as she fought back the tears stinging her eyes.  He was so broken, and it tore at her heart like a thousand steely knives.  Rage burned low in her gut as she set about collecting their meal.  He was suffering while Zelena lounged away at the hospital with no remorse for what she’d done to him while she was afforded every comfort.  She slammed her hand against the counter to release a bit of her anger, succeeding in doing nothing but making her hand ache.  Even after she delivered her baby, the witch wasn’t likely to be punished by the so called heroes of Storybrooke.  No one would bother to make her pay for her crimes against Rumpelstiltskin.  They couldn’t care less about him and it made her seethe with fury.

        “Belle?”

        She turned towards the sound of her husband’s voice filtering in through the screen door.  “I’ll be there in a moment, Rum.  I just need to fix our drinks.  Did you want iced tea or wine?” she called, trying to pull herself together.  She had to be strong for him.  It wasn’t time for her to have a meltdown.

        He appeared at the door, holding it open.  “Tea sounds lovely.  Did you need a hand?”

        Belle pasted a smile on her lips, though it nowhere matched the anguish evident in her eyes.  Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice.  “Just hold the door for me,” she said a bit too brightly as she set the glasses on the tray and moved to follow him.

 

~*X*~

 

        Belle idly flipped through the pages of Henry’s storybook, her gaze straying to her husband as he lit the fire in the hearth.  It was summer in Storybrooke, but the temperature still dipped low in the forest once night fell.  He smiled shyly at her as he rose and moved towards the sofa where she patted the space next to her.  Dinner had been a mostly silent affair, but he seemed to have lost some of the anxiety he’d experienced earlier.  Once he’d had a shower and slipped into his cotton sleeping pants and a t-shirt, it was all but gone.

        “Come sit with me.  I’ll read you a story,” she said, trying to coax him closer.

        His hands fidgeted atop the gold handle of his cane as he took a step closer.  “You don’t want to watch a movie?” he asked, remembering how well their last movie night had gone.  A shiver passed through him as he recalled how lovely it had been to have her nestled against his side.

        Belle grinned coyly at him and once again patted the sofa cushion.  “Not tonight.”  Finally, he relaxed and sat down beside her, wincing as he did so.  “Is your ankle bothering you?” she asked, worrying that with the stairs at Archie’s office, the shopping excursion and their jaunt to the cabin, it had been too much.

        “I’m fine,” he murmured.

        She regarded him closely, taking in the lines of pain around his eyes and mouth.  “No, you’re not.”  She hopped up and disappeared into the bedroom, coming back a moment later with his prescription pain pills and an ice pack.  He hadn’t had but half of a glass of wine with dinner, so it wouldn’t be a danger to give him one of his pills.  He grimaced as she went to fetch a glass of water.

        “Belle, you don’t have to –“

        His words cut off abruptly as she popped a pill into his mouth and held out the glass for him to drink.  “Nonsense.  I’m not going to allow you to just sit there in pain.”  She felt guilty enough, wondering how he’d managed the pain when he’d stayed in New York.  She knelt down and pulled the ottoman over to prop his leg up, rolling up his pants leg and settling the ice pack on his ankle.  How had he even made it to New York? she mused.  There was so much that could have happened to him before he’d made it to the city.  If anything had happened to him … her fault! … how could she have …

        “Belle,” he said softly, reaching for her.

        “I’m s-sorry, what?” she stammered, noticing the crease on his brow.

        “What’s wrong, dearie?” he whispered softly, pulling her up to sit beside him.  “I thanked you and you just stared off into space.  What were you thinking about?”

        “Nothing,” she insisted, reaching over to retrieve the book.  She didn’t want him to worry over her.  Later, when she was alone, she could succumb to her turmoil, but not now.  Being with him now in their cozy little hideaway was more important.  Seeing to his wellbeing wouldn’t banish her self-recriminations, but it would ease them minutely for a moment.  “What story would you like me to read to you?”

        He frowned, knowing instinctively that something was bothering her.  He let it go, however, not wishing to upset her further.  He glanced down at the book in her hands.  “Fairytales?  There’s a whole bookshelf full of paperbacks in the bedroom and you wish to read fairytales?” he scoffed.

        His arms curled around her as she nestled into his side and drew a tartan throw over their laps.  “What’s wrong with fairytales?” she asked, coming to the defense of the treasured book.

        Rumpelstiltskin pressed a kiss to her temple and hugged her close.  “I’m not five, Belle.”

        She sighed contentedly, relaxing in to his embrace.  It was the first time she’d been able to just let go all day and she relished the moment of peace between them.  “You don’t have to be a child to enjoy the stories in this book, Rumpel.”  She flipped open the cover and ran her finger over the table of contents.  “Snow White?”

        He shook his head.  “No, who would name the prince ‘charming’? There’s nothing charming about him. He’s an insipid do-gooder.”

        Belle snorted, trying to hide the giggle bubbling up in her throat.  He couldn’t have described David more accurately if he’d tried.  “Ok … Sleeping Beauty?”

        “I don’t like it when the dragon is killed.”

        This time she couldn’t help herself, giggling as she turned her face up to him.  “You _would_ root for the villain.”

        “She was misunderstood.”

        “Alice in Wonderland?” She tried again.

        “The bloke with the hat is a bit dodgy.”

        “Cinderella?” she asked, though she’d rather set the book on fire than read about that particular princess.  She still hadn’t gotten over Ella’s stunt with the pepper spray.

        His nose wrinkled as he frowned down at her finger hovering over the name of the story.  “I think not.”

        “Rapunzel?”

        “You ever wonder how she kept all that hair clean? There’s no telling what type of pestilence was hidden in those locks.”

        “Rumpel!” she admonished, nearly choking with laughter.

        He joined in, a truly happy sound rumbling in his chest.  Oh how she’d missed their banter.  She rattled off several more which he quickly shot down.  “Is there nothing in here that will please you, my husband?” she asked in exasperation. 

        “This one.  You skipped right over it,” he said, pointing to the story of Beauty and the Beast, their story. 

        Belle turned her gaze to him, her heart skipping a beat as she took in the look of concentration creasing his brow.  “Why this one?” she murmured a little breathily.

        “I don’t know,” he shrugged, settling deeper into the cushions as he waited for her to turn to the story.  “It just seems more interesting than most of the others.”

        She didn’t know what force was afoot making him choose that particular story – it couldn’t be the author since Henry had fallen into that role and snapped the magical quill – but she wasn’t going to question it.  She propped the book on her lap where he could see the pictures and follow along with her as she read and cleared her throat.  “Once upon a time …”

        “Why does she look so much like you?” he interrupted, pointing to the picture of her fairytale self, adorned in a shining golden ball gown.

        “Coincidence?  We do share a name after all,” she murmured evasively.

        He took the book from her and flipped through the pages, looking for a better picture of her.  He found one on the third page of the story, this one portraying her as a maid in the blue work dress he’d conjured for her.  He mumbled something so softly, she didn’t catch it.  The next page revealed her standing next to the ‘beast’ at a spinning wheel.  “This isn’t right.  He’s not hairy enough.”

        Belle felt her stomach plummet.  “What?”

        He gestured impatiently to the mantle where the Disney DVD was sitting innocuously with the others.  “The movie … he’s a lot more fearsome than this fellow.”  He squinted down at the picture, the beast sitting with his back facing the viewer.  “This beast doesn’t look fearsome at all.”

        “Rumpel …”

        He sat back once more and made himself comfortable, not realizing her turmoil.  “Go on, dearie.  I won’t interrupt again.  I’m interested to see how this version differs from the movie.”

        She smiled up at him, refusing to let her disappointment weigh too heavily upon her.  How could he have retained the knowledge of books and movies when he could barely remember anything else, she mused, but pushed the thought aside as she turned back to the tome in her hands.  Perhaps he’d respond to the story more than the pictures.  It was a long shot that he would respond to the book as David had, but she was determined to explore all avenues of hope when it came to her love’s memories.  And she really didn’t want to tell Henry that she hadn’t tried his idea.  Once again she picked up the book and began to read.

 

~*X*~

 

        Belle kicked off her slippers and crawled into bed beside her snickering husband before reaching up to turn off the lamp on the bedside table.  She settled back against her pillow and sighed, the softness offering her weary body its comfort.  “I’m sorry you didn’t like the story,” she murmured sleepily.  If she didn’t get some sleep soon, she was going to literally collapse, having had little since he’d woken from the stasis spell.

        “I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it,” he replied, turning on his side to face her.  “I just find it a bit far-fetched.  And the ending was ludicrous.  Why would he throw a tantrum because she tried to break his curse?  Isn’t that what he wanted?”

        She gave him a wide-eyed stare, blinking several times before she found her voice. “I’ve asked myself that same question hundreds of times,” she mumbled under her breath.

        “What was that?” he asked, wriggling closer.

        “Nothing, darling.  Go to sleep.”  She closed her eyes wearily, but they snapped open after only a moment to find him watching her in the semi-darkness.  He looked troubled … lost would have been a better description.  His dark eyes spoke volumes and she was able to read every one.  She opened her arms and he hastened into her embrace, nuzzling his nose against hers.

        “May I kiss you, Belle?” he whispered longingly, his breath warm against her lips.

        She hugged him tightly, her fingers kneading gently at his nape.  “Rum, you don’t have to ask my permission.  You may kiss me anytime you wish; I’m your wife.”

        Belle turned to him, hooking her leg over his hip as his knee wedged itself between her thighs, his arms circling her waist.  His lips were soft and warm as they pressed against hers tentatively, almost as if he were unsure of how to proceed.  Her fingers stroked over his hair reassuringly, urging him to take what he wished.  She would never forget the disastrous first time after he’d come home.  His apologies for failing her.  Her understanding.  Their shared tears.  She didn’t want to go through that again and she certainly didn’t want him to either.  She kept her touches light, letting him advance or retreat as he wished, reveling in the feel of his tongue as it swept across the seam of her lips.

        Rumpelstiltskin moaned softly as she opened for him, gently searching out the honeyed recesses of her mouth.  He arched into her touch, a purring sound rumbling deep in his chest.  She was so soft in his arms, he felt as though he could hold her until the end of time and still want more.  She alone had the uncanny ability to make him feel good.  The memory of the witch’s hands on him seemed to fade beneath Belle’s touch, leaving him yearning for more.  Yet he couldn’t help but feel her hesitation.  He nipped sharply at her lip and then soothed the sting away from her sweet pink flesh with his tongue.  Her nails scored his shoulders through his t-shirt, her hips bucking forward to grind against his thigh.

        Belle ripped her lips away from his, dawning horror on her face.  “Rum, I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to,” she cried breathlessly, reaching up to brush his hair away from his eyes.

        “Belle, what are you talking about?” he asked, confusion evident by his frown.  “Did I do something wrong?”

        “Of course not,” she hurried to reassure him.  “I love kissing you … I just don’t want to do anything until you’re ready, my love.  I don’t want to cause you unnecessary distress.”  She cursed inwardly over her complete failure to control her baser desires.

        Some of the coiled tension drained from his body.  “So, you’re not pushing me away because you don’t want me?”

        A rosy blush crept up her neck to settle in the apples of her cheeks as she slowly shook her head.  “I’ve never _not_ wanted you, Rum.  The problem is that I want you _too_ much, and I don’t want to give in to my feelings and touch you in some way that will call forth your trauma.  Please tell me you understand.”

        “What I understand is that I feel compelled to touch you.”

        Belle winced at his choice of words, her desire quickly dying a rapid death.  “Rumpel –“

        “Let me finish.  I can’t remember my past, Belle, and I’m … I’m afraid.  I’m afraid of everything, and you … your touch, your love and devotion for me … they calm my fears and give me peace, they make me happy.  I needed you,” he murmured, pressing his brow to hers.  “I needed to feel that connection between us just for a moment.  I didn’t mean to push.”

        She carded her fingers through the graying hair at his temples.  “Don’t be afraid, my love.  I won’t allow anything to harm you,” she whispered fiercely.  “I love you so much.  We’ll figure this out, you and I.  Can you honestly say you want to make love to me tonight?”

        He chuckled, the sound harsh to his ears, causing him to grimace.  “I don’t know what I want really.  My body is saying yes, but …”

        “You’re not sure,” she finished for him.  “It’s ok to be confused, Rum, but you need to believe that I’m not going anywhere.  I will be here for you when you’re sure you’re ready.  This isn’t about me and trying to please me so I’ll stay.  This is about you.”

        His brow furrowed as he tried to process what she was telling him, still unable to find it in himself to believe that she could love him so much and show such selflessness to him.  But he knew he had to try.  He didn’t think he’d ever be able to find his way back to her if he didn’t at least put forth the effort to believe in her … in them.  He didn’t resist as she pulled him close, his head coming to rest against her shoulder.  “I’ll try, Belle, I promise.”

        Belle hummed softly in agreement and pulled the blanket up around his shoulder.  “That’s all either of us can do, my love.  We’ll be ok … you’ll see.” 

        Rumpelstiltskin clutched her tightly as she drifted off to sleep, vowing silently to do whatever she asked of him.  He couldn’t remember what he’d done to hurt her so badly, but he knew he couldn’t allow himself to do it again.  He couldn’t lose her a second time. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter. There was more that I wanted to cover in this chapter, but being the windbag I am, I ran out of space. It will be in the next one, I promise. For those readers who wanted some closure between Belle and Will, as well as Rumpel finding out about them, I hope I didn’t disappoint. The only thing I know for certain will happen in the next chapter is Rumpel has another memory through his dreams with surprising results. Hope to see you all next time, and thank you so very much for all the love you’ve shown for this fic. xoxoxox
> 
> Also, if you are enjoying this story, my good friend Twyla Mercedes is writing a post season 4 fic called “Darkness Becomes Her” over on ffnet and I highly recommend you have a look. It’s fabulous!! Dark One Belle is sure to be entertaining :D


	8. Chapter 8

 

_“And, since then, you’ve loved no one. And no one has loved you.”_

_“Why did you come back?”_

_“I wasn’t going to. Then_ _… something changed my mind.” Belle leaned into him, her fingers digging into the lean muscles of his thighs, anchoring herself for what she was about to do.  Her clear cerulean eyes flicked back and forth between his wide-eyed gaze and his lips as she closed the distance between them.  Uncertainty, disbelief and lust warred within him, leaving him frozen in place and unable to withdraw from her timid advances.  Her petal soft mouth closed over his bottom lip and the world shattered and reformed in that single instance, coursing through his body and chasing away the darkness which tarnished his soul.  He felt light, intense and burning through his veins and nothing had ever felt more right and yet_ _… so wrong._

_“What’s happening?” he asked, the words barely a whisper upon his lips as he stared down trustingly at her.  Her face was alight with joy and happiness, her lips pink and glistening from their kiss, turned up into a brilliant smile.  She was so lovely, too lovely for one such as him.  His head swam, dizziness making his gaze shift in and out of focus.  What was wrong with him?_

_“Kiss me again_ _– it_ _’s working!”  she cried joyously, her soft hands stroking over his curls as she tried to pull him back into her sweet embrace._

_“What is?”  What was she talking about?  His entire body screamed in fear and outrage.  Why couldn’t he seem to focus on anything?_

_“Any curse can be broken.”_

_Rumpelstiltskin stumbled to his feet, the stool clattering to the hardwood floor as it was knocked from the dais which supported his spinning wheel.  The Dark One howled in rage, a burst of dark magic coursing through his veins, chasing away the light.  “Who told you that?  Who knows that?” he growled ominously.  He glanced down at his outstretched hands, the colors rippling between green gold and the healthy skin tone of a man._

_“I-I_ _… I don_ _’t know. She, uh_ _… She_ _… She_ _… “ the girl stammered, her brows drawn down in confusion._

_He stormed over to the mirror and ripped the drape away, tossing it to the floor.  “She_ _… “ he hissed. “You evil soul! This was you! You turned her against me! You think you can make me weak? You think you can defeat me?” he screamed into the mirror._

_Belle hesitantly rose from her seat on his spinning wheel and crept closer, trying in vain to see who he was yelling at, but seeing nothing but his own reflection.  “Who are you talking to?_

_“The Queen! Your friend, the Queen!” he postured dramatically, one long dark claw pointing up towards the high beamed ceiling as he quickly spun around on his toes.  “How did she get to you?”_

_“The-The Queen? I don’t-“_

_He stalked closer to her, his weathered features twisted with malice.  “I knew this was a trick. I knew you could never care for me. Oh, yeah! You’re working for her. Or is this all you? Is this you being the hero and killing the beast?”_

_Dawning understanding was evident in her eyes now and she put up her hands to ward him off, trying to find the words to explain.  “It was working_ _–“_

_The sorcerer cut her off with a bellowed growl. “Shut up!”_

_“This means it’s true love!” she yelled right back at him, unafraid of his temper.  It wasn’t the first time it had been unleashed upon her during her time as his maid, and surely it wouldn’t be the last.  He’d never hurt her before, simply sending her off to her room until he had time to cool his temper._

_“Shut the hell up!”_

_“Why won’t you believe me?”_

_Rumpelstiltskin’s long spinner’s fingers wrapped tightly about her upper arms, pulling her closer to him as he shook her.  His face was inches from hers, his warm breath, still hinting of the tea they’d shared earlier, fanning hotly against her lips. She cringed, averting her face as best she could as he yelled, “Because no one_ _– no one_ _– could ever, ever love me!”_

       

        “Rum!  Rumpel, wake up!  Please, Rum!”

        It was the terror in her voice which finally made his eyes snap open.  He stared down on her in horror, his long fingers curled about her upper arms, digging painfully into her ivory flesh.  The blood froze in his veins, leaving him cold as the icy hand of dread closed over his heart and squeezed.  His hand covered his mouth, tears filling his eyes as she reached up to cradle his face in her warm palms.  He quickly rolled away from her, stumbling to his feet.

        She let out a yelp as the lights flickered and the bulb in the lamp she’d switched on burst in a shower of sparks.  It didn’t stop him from beating a hasty exit, despite his limp.

        “Rumpel, where are you going?  Rumpel, wait!” Belle called after him.  He didn’t even stop to grab his cane where it rested beside the bed, limping blindly through the bedroom door and into the living room beyond.  He relished the pain in his shattered ankle.  He deserved far more for his actions.  He hurried through the cabin, his eyes quickly becoming accustomed to the semi-darkness as he made his way outside onto the back porch, heaving great lungfuls of air in the hopes that he would be able to calm his thundering heart.

        He’d frightened her.  He’d hurt her, something he’d promised himself not to do.  He didn’t care if he’d had no control over his dreams … it was no excuse.  He ran his hand through his hair, the locks damp with sweat.  He clung to one of the beams which supported the tin awning, his ears pricking as he heard his little wife moving through the darkened cabin.  The kitchen light flared to life and the sound of the kettle being filled penetrated the numbness which was only now receding from his limbs.

        Belle slowly pushed open the screen door, the hinges squeaking, and made her way to his side.  Carefully, she took his right hand in hers and pressed it over the handle of his cane.  “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

        His shoulders hunched, curling upon himself nearly, trying to hide away from her.  Shame weighted his shoulders and he turned away from the comfort she so desperately longed to offer him.  “I hurt you,” he croaked, his voice heavy with unshed tears.  But his wife, stubborn as she was precious, refused to let him wallow in his fear.

        She moved around him until he was forced to meet her gaze.  Goosebumps erupted along the skin exposed by her pink tank top and sleeping shorts.  The little black and white sheep spread across the material didn’t even register on him through his haze of misery.  “I’m fine, Rum.  You didn’t hurt me.”

        Rumpelstiltskin knew she was simply trying to placate him, but he didn’t respond to what he viewed as a patronizing tone.  He could already see the faint purple bruises painting her arms.  He reached out and fitted his hand about her arm before jerking away and hobbling over to the wicker sofa, his ankle not used to the abuse he’d put it through in his mad dash to be away from her.  “I hurt you,” he repeated.  “I can see it with my own eyes, Belle.”

        She shook out the blanket draped over her arm and spread it out over them as she sat down and curled against his side.  She wrapped around him, pulling his head down to rest on her shoulder.  “Hush, darling,” she crooned softly, carding her fingers through his damp hair.  “You didn’t hurt me … I’m fine.”  She sat with him until the kettle whistled and she got up to make tea for them, hoping a good cup of chamomile would soothe him.

        Rumpelstiltskin was curled up on the sofa where she’d left him, staring out into the distance across the lake when she returned.  She set the tea tray down on the small wicker table and poured him a cup of the warm brew.  “Here, love, drink this.  Nothing seems as dire after a cup of tea.”

        He cast her a wan smile and sipped carefully at the steaming liquid.  “Tea makes things better?”

        “Always.”  She sipped at her own cup as she curled back against his side under the blanket, pulling her feet up beneath her.  “Tell me about your dream, Rumpel,” she said softly, twining her fingers with his.

        “It’s silly.”

        “Nothing is silly if it has upset you.  Tell me.  How else will I know how to help you?”

        He sighed, closing his eyes as he finished his tea and set the cup back on the tray.  “I don’t think Hopper’s belief that I’ll be regaining my memories through dreams is very reliable.”

        “Why?”

        “Because what I dreamed couldn’t possibly be a memory.  I think it was pure fantasy because of the story you read before we went to bed.”

        Belle had woken when he’d first become restless and began fighting against the blankets covering him, but his shouts had been unintelligible.  “Why do you say that?”

        He huffed a short bitter laugh.  “I dreamed I was the beast in your story.  You were there, Belle, sitting by the spinning wheel and you kissed me.  But when I panicked and pulled the drape away from the mirror … I was the beast … I was the monster, and … I yelled and screamed at you, accused you of betraying me,” he murmured, searching his mind for details which threaten to disappear back into the miasma caused by his amnesia.  “I told you it was silly.  Somehow the story just made an impression and carried over into my dreams.”

        She hesitantly drew circles over the back of his hand with her thumb as she held his gaze.  Gods!  He was dreaming of his former self … of their shared past … and he thought it was a dream.  Not to mention that little burst of what she was certain was magic which had shattered the lightbulb in their bedroom.  How would he take _that_ news?!  She thought it best to let him believe it was only a dream for the time being.  “Did it feel like a memory,” she couldn’t refrain from asking.

        “It doesn’t matter what it felt like, Belle.  It couldn’t possibly be true.”  His gaze dropped down to their entwined hands.  “I don’t think it’s wise to continue to share a bed until I’ve gotten myself sorted out”

        “What?!”

        “I can’t take the chance that I will lash out at you while I’m asleep and –“

        “No,” she stated vehemently.  “No, I’ve already spent too many nights alone in our bed, Rumpel.  I won’t stand for any more.  You’re my husband and my place is with you.”  She scooted closer and wrapped her arms about his neck, pressing her brow to his lovingly as she stroked his hair.  “I missed you so much.  Please don’t make me sleep alone.  I need to feel you beside me, to know that you’re here and the past several months are just a bad memory.”

        “I don’t want to hurt you again,” he whispered, his lips brushing softly against hers.  Her close proximity, her warmth, the love he could feel so prevalent in her embrace was nearly more than his mortal heart could bear.  “I never want to hurt you, my Belle.”

        “You won’t.”

        “You don’t know that,” he hissed.  “There’s no way you can predict something like that.”

        Belle’s fingers found the ends of his hair, tugging gently when he still wouldn’t look at her.  When he did, his dark eyes were filled with pain, past suffering and self-loathing, everything he tried to hide from her.  He wasn’t able to hide now, leaving himself vulnerable and at her mercy.  Without the weight of his past, he was finally able to trust her.  Her heart swelled and she vowed to herself that she would never hurt him again.  One hand drifted down over the smooth column of his neck to his chest over his heart where it beat steadily, if a little fast, beneath her hand.

        “I _know_ you, Rumpel.  I know your heart.  You would never hurt me.”  She cut off his protests with her lips, gently sliding them over his own, sweet sipping kisses which had him relaxing into her, the tension slowly easy from his body.  She pulled him to his feet as the first faint pinks and greys of the oncoming dawn pierced the sky.  He followed her without question to the hammock at the other end of the porch, giving in to her silent request to lie down.  She spooned against his back, pillowing his head against her breasts and pulling the blanket over them.  “Rest, my love,” she murmured, resting her cheek atop his crown.  “Today is going to be a new start for us, yeah?”

        Rumpelstiltskin drew her arm around his shoulders, bringing her fingers to his lips to kiss each one before settling her hand over his heart.  “Thank you, my Belle,” he whispered, the sound barely audible against the sounds of nature awakening for a new day.  “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

        She held on a little tighter, a tear escaping from her closed lids.  _Never again, my love.  Never again._   “Shh, try to sleep.  I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere,” she crooned, the fingers of her other hand tracing gentle lazy circles over his stomach.  “I love you.” 

        He sighed, his breath becoming deeper, more even as he slipped back into sleep.  It was only then that she gave into her heartache and allowed it to pour out of her in silent tears.

 

~*X*~

 

        Regina cursed and removed the pan of charred bacon from the heat, tossing it into the sink.  She clutched her hand to her chest and turned the faucet on to soothe the burn to her palm.  Robin’s arms came around her from behind as he leaned over her shoulder to inspect her injury.  She shook him off and wrapped a town around her hand before pulling more bacon from the refrigerator and a clean skillet from the cupboard.

        “Regina,” he said firmly, but she continued to ignore her true love.  She couldn’t allow him to comfort her when there was breakfast to be made for her boys.  She needed some semblance of normalcy to the children even if her whole world was shattering around her.  “Regina, stop!”

        Robin pulled the pan and the bacon from her trembling hands and set them on the island which dominated her pristine kitchen, grasping her shoulders and making her look at him.  “I can’t!”

        He pulled her struggling form into the circle of his arms, crushing her to his chest.  “Yes, you can.  Just for a moment,” he whispered soothingly.  “You didn’t even stop to heal yourself.  How are you going to take care of anyone if you can’t take care of yourself?”

        She gave him a withering look so reminiscent of her days as the Evil Queen, he quailed, grimacing.  “I’m fine!” she hissed, turning away from him and setting the pan on the stove, taking her time to line up the strips of bacon.  “I don’t have time to be weak, Robin.  I can’t.  Our boys need to be fed a normal family breakfast, and I’m going to prepare it for them.  They eat entirely too much diner food, and it’s not good for them.  If you want to do something useful, why don’t you finish peeling the fruit?”

        “Regina …”

        She flipped the bacon with a pain of tongs and settled a bacon press over them.  Her chin dropped to her chest as she scrunched her face into a painful mask.  “What if the curse is more than she can handle?” she whispered, pursing her lips to keep them from quivering.  “The gods only know what it’s doing to her.  What if …” she paused to draw in a shuddering breath.  “What am I going to tell Henry if she never comes back to us … him.”

        He turned her gently with a hand to her shoulder.  “She’s the savior, sweetheart, she _will_ come through this –“

        “Don’t you see?  She’s _not_ the savior any longer.  She’s out there … all alone, harboring the darkest evil ever known to man,” she said brokenly.

        “Rumpelstiltskin –“

        “- had _centuries_ to come to terms with what he was.  I don’t even know how he managed to cope with such evil,” she scoffed, turning off the burner on the stove.  “When Emma first came to town … oh gods, I hated her so much,” she gave a rueful laugh.  “I would have loved to see something like this destroy her view of the world.”

        “You’ve come a long way.  Neither of you are the same and it’s for the better … er … well I’m not saying Emma becoming the Dark One is –“

        Regina gave him a pained smile and gently cupped his cheek in her uninjured hand.  “I know.”  She slipped around him and pulled plates from the cupboard.  She could hear her boys upstairs readying themselves for the day, the smell of breakfast having roused them from their slumber.  “Emma … she’s my friend.  I don’t know how we got to that point, but …”

        She let her voice trail away as Roland came bounding into the room and wrapped his arms around her waist, his stuffed bear clutched tightly between them.  Since the loss of his mother, he’d clung to the toy as a lifeline, something to ground him and comfort him from the pain.  Another reason to hate her half-sister as much as she did.  She lifted him onto a stool at the island and placed a plate before him, dropping a kiss to his tousled curls. 

        “G’morning, Mom,” Henry greeted, barely making himself understood as he yawned around the words.  “Robin.”  He kissed his mother on the cheek before sitting down next to Roland and digging into his own food.  “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

        “Same as yesterday.  We’re going to go out there and try to find her while –“

        “More research on the curse?” he mumbled around a mouth full of eggs.

        “Don’t talk with your mouth full, dear.  And yes, more research.”

        He groaned and shoved a piece of bacon into his mouth.  “I miss Gramma Belle.  No one does research like her.”  He pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and scrolled through his notifications, but found no new messages from her.  “I wonder if reading to him from my storybook helped to jog Grandpa’s memory.”

        “What?  You loaned her the book?” Regina asked, leaning back against the counter and reaching for the coffee Robin poured for her.  With as little sleep as she’d been getting, she knew she was going to need it.

        “Yeah.  Remember Grandma Snow woke Grandpa David from a coma while reading their story to him.  I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try the same ploy on Grandpa.  I’ll text her later to see if it worked.”

        Regina had to admit she was desperate enough to try anything to get Rumpelstiltskin’s memories back.  “It might not be quite so easy with Rumpel,” she confessed in a bitter tone.  “When has that man ever made my life anything less than titillating?” she snarked.

        Henry arched a brow.  “No taking pot shots at Grandpa, Mom.”

        She hummed over the rim of her coffee cup, making it clear she wasn’t going to make any promises.  Her relationship with Rumpelstiltskin had always been complicated and she was sure it was too late to change things now.  “I just hope she’s able to bring him out of it.  As much as I hate to admit … we need him.”

 

~*X*~

 

        Rumpelstiltskin screwed up his face in irritation as the world came back into view.  The sun shone harshly against his closed lids and his head throbbed dully with the onset of a headache.  His right hand flourished automatically at his side.  He opened his eyes a crack to stare down at it in consternation.  _What the hell was that about?_ he wondered idly.  He tossed off the blanket and swiped a hand over his top lip, his flesh glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration.  _Why was he sleeping outside?_ A tantalizing aroma wafted on the breeze, drawing him further from sleep, and it was then he noticed the absence of his little wife.  She was no longer curled against his back, the shelter of her arms gone in the bright light of morning.  If he couldn’t hear her moving about in the cabin’s small kitchen, he would have brushed it off as a dream.

        His lips quirked into a fond smile as he listened to her hum while she worked.  It pricked at his mind, a familiar sound, comforting.  The melody was a bit off key, but he enjoyed the tune in her sweet voice.  She was flipping pancakes on the griddle when he limped inside, leaning heavily on his cane.  She smiled brightly at him as he kissed her cheek in passing.

        “Be careful of the glass in the bedroom, Rum!” she called after him.  “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

        After he’d showered and changed and seen to his other morning ablutions, he was in a far better mood when he joined her.  “Good morning, Belle,” he said, following her out onto the porch where she’d served their breakfast.  “This looks delicious.  Coffee?” he asked hopefully.

        Belle giggled at the look of pure bliss that overtook his features as he sipped from the mug she poured him.  “How did you sleep?” she queried as she poured syrup all over her pancakes, eggs and bacon despite his nose wrinkling as he watched her.  He took the syrup from her and poured just a tiny amount on his own, trying to make sure the sticky condiment didn’t flow over into his eggs.

        He shrugged after taking a bite.  “I didn’t dream, so I guess that’s a good thing.”

        “Yes it is,” she agreed.  She watched him surreptitiously from beneath her lashes as they ate in companionable silence.  He looked so different in casual clothes, but his bearing was no less stiff than if he’d been wearing his suit.  She grinned.  She could definitely get used to him in jeans and the navy blue button down he wore.  It complemented his skin tone and the open buttons at his throat reminded her of some of the silk shirts he wore in the Dark Castle.  Oh how she missed that look.  She cleared away the dishes and cleaned up her mess in the kitchen before rejoining him out on the porch.  “Alright, my love.  Today is a new day and we’re going to march bravely forward.  You with me?”

        Rumpelstiltskin blinked owlishly at her, a wary smile tugging at his lips.  “Um … what did you have in mind, dearie?”

        “Well …” she murmured teasingly.  “There are many things we can do up here away from civilization … if you’d like to call it that.  Why don’t we use that neoprene brace Dr. Whale gave you and go for a hike.  You look so much better this morning and I think the fresh air and sunshine will only add to it.  You spend too much time in the shop.”

        “Belle,” he groaned.  “I don’t need to go traipsing through the bloody forest.  I’m not a chipmunk!”

        Belle arched a brow at him.  “Are we going to have to make a deal?  Alright, Rumpel, what do you want in exchange for an hour on the trail?”

        His familiar smirk lifted one corner of his mouth as he leaned onto the table, bringing his face closer to hers.  “What are you willing to give, Mrs. Gold?” he asked, his voice a sultry purr.

        Belle did the same and closed all but the minutest distance between them.  “I’ll do _anything_ , my husband.”

        He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in her sweet scent of sakura blossom and plums from the soap she’d used that morning.  It could barely mask her own delightful fragrance, something that was all Belle.  His body tightened, his skin feeling too small to contain his essence.  He wanted her to touch him, to fill him with her light, to cradle her close to his heart and never let her go.  He wanted so much more.  He had to clench his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching for her as she nuzzled her nose against his.

        “You have a thousand and one ideas running rapidly through that brilliant mind of yours, don’t you?” she whispered against his lips.  “It’s all yours for the taking if only –“

        “-- I join you for a bloody hour for a hike,” he groaned.  She pulled away, her eyes twinkling merrily as she sat back in her chair.  _Gods! She just doesn’t play fair._   “Go fetch the brace, dearie,” he growled grudgingly. “But you will pay the price.  I assure you of that.”

 

~*X*~

 

        Belle sat cross legged at the foot of the bed, rubbing soothing peppermint lotion into the mangled twisted scars on Rumpelstiltskin’s ankle and lower calf, content that he was comfortable enough to allow her to care for him.  He had fidgeted all through dinner and she could clearly see the lines of pain etched deeply in his face.  He’d declined even watching a movie with her, electing to soak in the tub, grumbling and grousing the entire time until she’d been ready to snap at him.  He was much calmer now, a devastatingly attractive boneless mass of happiness, judging by the contented smile on his face.

        It was all her fault, she thought guiltily.  It had been her idea to get him out of the cabin into the fresh air to commune with nature.  If he’d had his memories he’d have scoffed at the idea … after he’d finished laughing.  She really had thought the brace would have made it easier on him.  They’d hiked – walked really – for an hour to the little brook she’d wanted to show him.  They’d ended up sitting for another two hours with their feet in the burbling waters without a care as to going back.  They’d talked as they hadn’t before, at least not since their time together in the Enchanted Forest.  He was genuinely curious about her childhood and formative years, listening to her and soaking it all in. There were no interruptions and pleas for help, no magical emergencies, no research.  It was just the two of them, alone in the forest, spending time together.  It had been one of the best afternoons of her life.

        “Feeling better, my love?” she asked softly, taking in his heavily lidded gaze as it followed her careful ministrations.

        Rumpelstiltskin nodded slowly, pressing his tongue to the back of his teeth, the pink tip barely visible as it swept along his lower lip.  Uh-oh, she knew that look far too well.  She removed his foot from her lap and rested it gently atop the pillow to prop it up in hopes of reducing the swelling.  “I-I think … um … yeah, I think I’m going to go take a shower.”  She hopped off the bed before he could question her haste, quickly grabbing her pajamas and a clean pair of underwear before darting into the bathroom.  She closed the bathroom door behind her, leaning against it with a sigh.  Maybe he would be asleep by the time she joined him in bed.

        “Not bloody likely, Belle,” she mumbled under her breath.

        Thankfully, her husband was quite fond of the creature comforts of this land as compared to the Enchanted Forest and its more primitive luxuries.  An extra-large hot water heater had been installed to assure an almost endless supply of steaming water.  Belle leaned her palms against the tiles and lowered her head to allow the spray to soak the back of her head and thoroughly soak her long tresses.  She didn’t try to wipe away the tears which flowed unchecked from her lashes.  In the few short days since Rumpelstiltskin had woken from his stasis, he’d been more open and honest with her, by both words and actions, than he had in the entire length of their relationship.

        She covered her mouth with her hand to hold back the sob which ached in her chest.  She hadn’t thought it possible to love him more than she already did, but there it was, her heart near to bursting it for him.  She was finally seeing what the darkness had kept hidden from her.  It was possible that he’d always been so closed off emotionally considering the hell Milah and then Cora had put him through, but to see that he was willing to risk it again …

        If only she had been able to see.  If only she had known just how damaged he’d been, she doubted she would have had the fortitude to send him across the town line.  She’d believed he’d changed, that he would never risk hiding things from her again.  No, she couldn’t delude herself no matter how much she wished to do so.  There was always that niggling voice in the back of her mind warning her that he wasn’t being as forthcoming as he should.  She’d buried her head in the sand and let it go on, because if she were being honest with herself, she just wanted the fairy tale that he’d weaved about her.  She wanted him to be the good man he’d portrayed to her.  And all the while he’d been deceiving her, she’d allowed it because she couldn’t face going on without him.  Her morality didn’t want to face up to the fact that she’d have to leave him again.

        Belle went through the motions of taking her shower as the tears continued to fall.  She couldn’t do it anymore.  She’d once told Rumpel that he was worth fighting for and she’d given up.  She’d told Baelfire she loved his father … all of him … even the parts that belonged to the darkness, and she’d given up on him.  She’d let her need to be the hero goad her into turning her back on him when he needed her most.  She slammed the flat of her palm against the tiles as a sob broke free of her throat.  He could have _died_ out there alone with only the clothes on his back.  She’d abandoned him just like everyone else he’d loved had done.  Was it any wonder that he was so unable to trust?

        Belle was numb with sorrow as she turned off the spray and quickly dried herself.  She groaned as she caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror, her eyes and nose cherry bright.  She wrapped the towel around herself and reached for a wash cloth, dousing it in cold water.  She pressed it to her face, hoping the coldness would soothe away the redness.  She couldn’t go back to him looking as if her best friend had died.  She took deep calming breaths and squared her shoulders with determination.  He was hers again, to love and protect, even from himself.  She wouldn’t allow anyone else to harm him, especially not in his vulnerable state and certainly not her … not again.  They had so much to talk about when his memories returned, and she could only pray that he’d forgive her as she’d forgiven him.  If he couldn’t, she’d let him go.  Somehow she’d find the strength to let him go.  The thought brought on a fresh wave of tears which she quickly dashed away.  Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.  Despite everything, she knew they belonged together.  She just hoped he could see it too.

        Belle brushed out her hair until it lay in gleaming waves down her back and took another deep breath before reaching for the door.  She’d been rather foolish to think he’d have gone to sleep.  He was still lying on the bed, foot propped up on the pillows near the end of the bed, his head resting on his folded arms. 

        The lazy smile etched upon his face faded into a look of deep concern.  “Belle … what’s wrong, dearest?  Are you alright?”

        She conjured a reassuring smile for him as she moved over to her side of the bed and sat down next to him.  “I’m fine.  I guess the stress just got to me for a moment.”  She reached out and brushed the long lock of hair away from his eyes, her fingers gentle and soft as they lingered upon his warm skin.  A surge of pure love made her heart clench and she wasn’t able to stop the lone tear from escaping the corner of her eye before he could see it.  “I j-just want us to be ok.”

        “Oh, Belle …” he whispered, pulling her into the welcoming circle of his arms.  “Of course we will.  You’re my wife.  That’s nothing to take lightly.”  He pressed a kiss to her brow and buried his free hand in her hair.  “Whatever came between us is in the past, yeah?  We’ll work it out.”

        She nodded, the arm she’d thrown over his waist tightening fiercely.  “I hope so,” she breathed, some of her anxiety leaving her as he held her close.

        In the hopes of distracting her, he rolled over, pulling her beneath him, his nose nuzzling softly against her ear.  She shivered as a curl of desire echoed through her to pool delightfully in her belly.  “Rum …” she moaned.  “What are you –“

        Her breath caught as his teeth scraped over the sensitive flesh beneath her ear, cutting off any hopes of coherent speech.  He grinned devilishly as he lifted his head to meet her gaze.  His lips skimmed over hers in the lightest of touches.  “I think I know what my price should be,” he murmured breathlessly, their closeness affecting him just as much as it did her.

        “P-Price?” she asked, more than a little confused.  He’d always had the ability to leave her in a mindless state of befuddlement.

        Rumpelstiltskin took advantage of her confusion and captured her lower lip between his own, sucking gently at the tender flesh.  “Mhmm … you did promise me _anything_ ,” he whispered playfully.

        Their conversation regarding their activities for the day over breakfast crashed down on her like a bucket of ice water, leaving her shaken. How could she have forgotten their deal? _Well_ _… just_ _… shit!_

       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: No! it’s not that, so just get your minds out of the gutter!! Lmao!! I kind of went over on this chapter with the word count, but I couldn’t just leave you hanging … well no more than necessary :D This wasn’t even how I wanted the ending to go, but my muse had other ideas and just ran with it. I do hope you all enjoyed it. The next chapter is going to be angsty AF, so you have that to look forward to. Considering with this story that I have no canon to fall back on, I have some really great ideas (at least I think so) of how I want this story to develop. Thank you all so much for your continued support and lovely comments on this story. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. Love and hugs to you all … until next week :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is pretty tame until the end when Rum suffers some more really bad memories of the green meanie (Zelena). So if you’re trigger sensitive, consider yourself warned.

        “Now, Rumpel, let’s be reasonable about this,” Belle murmured softly, her hands curling into her husband’s hair as his lips continued to trail a scorching path of kisses from her neck to her collarbone.  She squeezed her thighs tightly together in an effort to alleviate some of the burning desire pooling between her legs.  In a moment she’d be ready to truly offer him _anything_ if he’d just make love to her.  Every bit of her good sense seemed to be leaking out of her ears as her head was filled with a lust-filled haze.  It had been too long and she wanted him so much.  What would it hurt to give in and take what she wanted from him?

        Her stomach churned with disgust at her own selfishness and she swallowed several times to fight back the nausea rising in her throat.  She couldn’t do that.  Yes, he was her husband and she loved him with every fiber of her being, but she’d be no better than Zelena if she forced him into something he wasn’t ready for.  With a sheer force of will, she pushed her desire aside – which wasn’t the easiest task when his lips were a gift from the gods and amnesia or not he knew exactly where to kiss her to turn her into a quivering, burning mass of goo – and took a deep breath.

        It took her a moment to realize that his hand was still against her hip, unmoving as if he were afraid his advances would send her fleeing.  He’d fired her blood only with the soft kisses he trailed along her neck and shoulder, kisses as fleeting and perfect as butterfly wings.  “Rumpel?” she asked breathily, tugging gently on the ends of his hair.  His hum of pleasure nearly broke her, but she smiled reassuringly as he lifted his head and grinned sheepishly, his cheekbones flushed pink.  “What would you ask of me?”

        His fingers toyed with the hem of her tank top, plucking at it nervously.  “Take this off.”  He finally lifted his gaze to hers, worry evident in his dark eyes that she’d reject him.  She sucked in a sharp breath and he held up a hand to forestall her.  “Don’t think I’m asking for more than you’re willing to give, Belle, please.  Just … I feel this connection with you.  I don’t know why … I wish I did, but … I just want to feel close to you.  I want to feel what it’s like to have you pressed against me with nothing between us.  Am I even making sense?”

        Belle knew all too well what he wanted.  In the months after his captivity, she’d woken in his arms, stripped bare of her nightclothes on more than one occasion with him plastered to her back, his arms crushing her to him.  It was comfort, to have the one person he felt he could trust see him so vulnerable and leave herself vulnerable to him as well.  It was a technique which had worked well in the past. 

        She smiled hesitantly as she brushed a stray lock of hair away from his eyes.  “You’re making perfect sense, Rum.  I feel our connection just as keenly as you do and I understand.”

        “I wouldn’t try to take advantage, Belle, I promise,” he insisted with a shake of his head. “I –“

        Belle covered his lips with her fingertips to cut off anymore of his ramblings.  “I know, darling, I trust you.”  She rose up from beneath him, gently pushing him back to give her some room.  She held his gaze as she reached for the hem, slowly pulling it over her head.  He averted his eyes as it fell away and she reached for him, tilting his chin up to look at her.  “Hey, don’t hide from me.  Don’t be afraid to look.  I am your wife, Rumpel.  You don’t have to be ashamed for wanting me.”

        “But I can’t remember you,” he said in an agonized whisper.  “I barely know you and I shouldn’t want things I can’t have … but I do, Belle.”

        _Gods!  If he’d been this honest with me before, we never would have been separated._ She laid down against the pillows and opened her arms to him, biting back a moan as the bare skin of his chest came into contact with her own.  Heat raced through her like wildfire as he held her close and nuzzled his face against the hollow of her throat.  She trembled, her body betraying her in the basest of ways.  She’d always been weak where he was concerned, her body susceptible to his lightest touch, his softest caress.

        “You’re trembling,” he stated the obvious, moving to pull away, but she held fast to him, her arms curling tightly around his shoulders.  “I’m making you uncomfortable.”

        “No!” she cried hoarsely, her voice weighted down with emotion she couldn’t hide from him.  “Rumpel … I want you too … so much, and I don’t feel we’re in the right place for a physical relationship … er …” She groaned.  “As much as I want to make love with you, I just don’t think we’re ready.  I don’t want to be a trigger to your more traumatic memories, and-“

        “Belle …”

        “I’m afraid!” The words burst past her lips, followed by a choked sob as she curled against his chest.  “I’m afraid, Rum.”

        His arms tightened over her back as he pressed a kiss to her crown.  “Impossible,” he whispered.  “You’re the bravest person I know.”

        “I’m the only person you really know,” she quipped with a tremulous laugh.

        He squeezed her, unable to let go of her even to meet her eyes.  “Regardless, I’m not asking for more than you’re willing to give, Belle.  It’s enough to be able to hold you like this, enough to know that you still love me despite the pain we’ve caused each other.  I need you, Belle.  I know I don’t deserve you, but I need you so much.”

        “You have me.  I’m just afraid once you remember … you won’t … you won’t believe in us anymore.  You never truly believed that I could love you.”

        He stared at her, dumbfounded.  “Then I was a fool.”

        She shook her head adamantly.  “No, you’d just been hurt so badly in the past.  You believed it was your fault … that it was something you’d done and it wasn’t, Rumpel.  It was just so ingrained in you to hate yourself, you couldn’t believe anyone could truly love you.”

        “Then I’ll just have to learn from my mistakes, because I don’t want you to leave.  I want you to stay and be my wife and let me learn to love you again.”  He cradled her cheek in his palm, brushing away her tears with his thumb as he held her close to his chest.  He wondered if she could hear the rapid tempo of his heart beneath her ear.  “I can’t lose you now, Belle.”

        “You won’t,” she vowed earnestly.  She wrapped her arm over his waist and stroked her hand over the small of his back, feeling the tension slowly ease from his muscles as he drifted off to sleep.  She’d given up on him once in a moment of madness … she wouldn’t do it again.

 

~*X*~

 

        “Belle …”

        Belle smiled sleepily and hugged her pillow a bit more tightly as her husband’s lips trailed over the bare skin of her shoulder.  The dream was too pleasant to allow anything to interrupt.

        “Belle, dearie …” he purred, his hand ghosting over her side as his lips moved to her nape.  “Waken up, sweetheart, it’s morning.”

        “No’s not,” she grumbled.  “My alarm didn’t go off.”

        “I turned it off,” he admitted unrepentantly.

        Her eyes flew open as she reached for her iPhone on the nightstand and pressed the home button.  Nine a.m.  “Crap!”  She rolled over, unmindful of her state of undress and frowned up at him.  “You never get up before me,” she accused, “especially on Monday.”

        Rumpelstiltskin was still grinning as he pressed a kiss to her lips and tossed her shirt at her.  “Come on, Belle, breakfast is getting cold.”  He’d had the best night’s sleep he could remember, his dreams peaceful and filled with images of his darling wife.  The morning had only gotten better as he’d woken with her slender arms wrapped around him, her soft curves pressed into his side.  He’d slipped out from under her, hope for the new day shining in his eyes, and showered and changed.  “Belle!”

        She shook her head at him, awed over his happiness.  “What’s gotten into you this morning?  And did you say ‘breakfast’?” she groaned as she sat up and pulled her tank top over her head.  “Rum, darling, you don’t cook.”  He didn’t say another word as he grabbed her hand.  She couldn’t help but appreciate the view of him in his new jeans and a dark grey t-shirt as she followed after him.

        Belle gasped as she took in the spread on the small dining table.  There were two china plates piled high with eggs benedict and hash browns.  “Where … how … Rumpel, what did you do?” she asked, sitting in the chair he pulled out for her.

        His familiar smirk curled up one corner of his mouth as he sat down opposite her and poured her a cup of tea from the teapot on the tray he’d prepared.  “I called Dove, and I asked him to bring breakfast.”

        “Wherever did he find eggs benedict?  I know for a fact it’s not on Granny’s menu,” she said, unable to hold back a blissful moan as she took her first bite.  “Gods, this is so good.  How did you even know this is my favorite?”

        He blinked innocently at her over the rim of his cup and refused to answer.

        “Rum!  Come on … tell me,” she persisted.

        “I … ah … I think I had a good memory last night.”

        She set her fork down and met his gaze hopefully.  “Really?”

        He nodded as he tucked into his breakfast.  “I dreamed of you, Belle.  We weren’t at home, but we were comfortable there … a huge cottage with a view of the coast?  We were having breakfast in bed and this was what we were eating.”

        “Our honeymoon!”  She didn’t elaborate.  It wasn’t as if she could tell him he’d conjured it with magic since the Apprentice’s home was devoid of servants.  “Definitely a good memory.”  She took another bite and washed it down with her tea.  “It still doesn’t explain where this wonderful food came from.”

        “Well, it seems that our friend, Mr. Dove, is quite an accomplished cook.  He’d just left when I came to wake you.”

        Belle covered her hand with his and gave it a gentle squeeze.  “This is wonderful, Rumpel.  Truly wonderful, thank you.”

        He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.  “My pleasure, sweetheart.  You deserve a break.”

        They chatted amiably about mundane things as they finished their breakfast and lingered over tea.  She was so excited that he’d finally had a pleasant memory to focus on, she nearly forgot about calling Whale’s office and scheduling an appointment.  Her husband was less than happy.  “I don’t need to see a doctor, Belle.  I’m fine.”

        “You need a new prescription for your pain medication and I want him to make sure you didn’t twist anything yesterday on our hike,” she said, sighing and casting him a stern look when he snatched the phone out of her hands.

        “I’m fine … really,” he insisted.

        “Rumpel …”

        “We’re supposed to be here at the cabin to relax.  Going into town to see the resident quack is not what I would call relaxing,” he grumbled petulantly.

        Belle pushed away from the table and settled herself on his lap, careful to keep her weight off his bad leg.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, ignoring the suspicious look he was giving her, and pressed a kiss to his lips.  “If we can get it over with today …” she murmured in a coaxing tone, “ … we’ll have the rest of the week to enjoy ourselves without interruption.”

        A low rumble of pleasure sounded in his chest as she pressed her brow to his and carded her fingers through the hair at his nape.  “You’re trying to manipulate me, dearie …”

        “I learned from the best,” she snarked.

        “… and it’s not going to work.”

        “We can go for ice cream afterwards,” she whispered against his lips as she nibbled softly.  “Or we could have dinner at that little Italian restaurant you favor down by the docks.  I know how you enjoy their Chicken Marsala.”

        “Why are you so intent on me seeing the doctor?” he asked, pulling her closer and wrapping his arms around her.  “I’m sure with rest, I’ll be fine.”

        “Because I don’t want you to suffer when Dr. Whale can help.”

        His hand delved into the long unbound curls at her nape, his long fingers curling about the strands.  “Fine, dearest, we’ll go if you wish,” he capitulated.  He didn’t give her a chance to say anything more, however, deepening the kiss.  He didn’t think she’d object too strenuously now that she’d gotten her way.

        Belle gave herself over to the delicious heat stirring within her as his tongue slipped into her mouth to duel with hers.  It had never been so easy between them.  There was still the overwhelming passion they’d always shared, but now … now that tiny part of him she’d always felt he’d been withholding from her was gone.  He was freer, more giving, loving in a way he hadn’t been capable of under the curse.  She moaned softly as his tongue brushed over the roof of her mouth.

        She opened her eyes briefly, wanting to see the utter need on his face as he kissed her, and forgot how to breathe.  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of white china … his teacup … hovering inches above the table.  Her hand shot out and pressed over the top of the cup, gently lowering it back down to the table.

        “What’s wrong?” he asked breathlessly as his eyes cracked open to see why she’d broken their kiss.  “Are you alright?”

        “Fine!” she squeaked, unable to disguise the panic in her voice.  He arched a finely sculpted brow and looked down at her hand covering the cup.  “More tea?”

        His brow furrowed in confusion.  “Tea?”

        “Mhmm … would you like more tea while I make my call?”  Her mind raced as she tried to cover.  “It shouldn’t take me long.”

        Rumpelstiltskin reached out and took her chin between his long fingers, giving her a hard look.  “Are you certain you’re alright?  Did I do something wrong?”

        “Of course not,” she scoffed.

        “Belle, one minute you’re warm and responsive and the next you’re asking if I want tea.  I may not remember a lot of things, but I know that’s not normal healthy behavior.”

        She worried her lip and lowered her gaze, unsure of how to answer him.

        “I was pushing again, wasn’t I?”

        “N-No.”

        “I was,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to her brow.  “I’m sorry.”  His smile turned wicked.  “It’s not my fault I have such a beautiful wife.”

        Belle climbed off of his lap and poured his tea.  “Nor is it my fault that I have a tendency to lose my good sense over my husband.”  She added sugar and lemon to his cup and kissed his cheek.  “I’ll be back soon, darling.  Enjoy your tea.”

        He grunted an acknowledgement and watched her pick up the phone from the table and disappear into the bedroom.  Belle leaned back against the closed door and covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide and panicked.  She forced her shaking hands to pull up the contact information and send a quick message.

 

**_Belle_ ** _:  He has magic and doesn’t realize it!! What am I going to do?  With no memories he’s going to_ _… well I don’t know exactly what, but I don’t know how I’m going to explain it to him!_

 

        The response was immediate.

 

**_Henry:_   ** _Gramma, calm down.  It’ll be ok.  Do you want mom to help you?  She might be able to talk him down._

**_Belle:_   ** _Hardly!!  She’ll only make things worse.  He doesn’t remember and even if he did, he certainly doesn’t trust her.  Rum hasn’t realized what’s going on yet, and he’s doing it without conscious knowledge, but eventually he’s going to notice._

**_Henry:_ ** _Maybe it’s just a reaction to his emotions.  What was he doing when it happened?_

**_Belle:_ ** _Um_ _…_

**_Henry:_ ** _Gramma!  I’m thirteen.  I‘ve been to health class._

        Belle dropped her head into her hand with a groan.

 

**_Belle:_ ** _Not that!  The first time, he exploded the bulb in the lamp because he was panicked from a nightmare.  Just now, we were_ _…_

**_Henry:_ ** _???_

**_Belle:_ ** _Kissing, ok?!  We were kissing and he levitated a tea cup right off the bloody table._

**_Henry:_ ** _So it’s just small things reacting to his emotions.  Gramma, it’ll be OK.  Just try to keep him calm.  At least until you absolutely have no choice but to tell him.  I can still get mom to help you if you need her_ _… or even Mal.  She’s been trying to help mom with my other mom’s curse._

**_Belle:_   ** _Thanks, Henry, but I don’t think I can ask them to get involved.  Rumpel is my responsibility and I need to do this on my own.  When he finally regains his memories, he’ll be furious if I ask for Regina’s help after what she did regarding my heart.  I’m just so glad I can confide in you.  You’re the only person besides myself who really cares about Rumpel._

**_Henry:_ ** _I do.  I love my grandpa.  You will let me know if there’s anything I can do, right?_

**_Belle:_ ** _Of course I will.  Please don’t tell your mother.  I don’t want her to know yet, ok?_

**_Henry:_ ** _I won’t tell.  You can depend on me, Gramma.  TTYL?_

**_Belle:_ ** _Pinky promise._

        Belle deleted the conversation thread and set the iPhone down on the bed while she changed her clothes, choosing a simple blue sundress and yellow cardigan with a pair of flats.  Her heels were simply too impractical to wear at the cabin.  She ran her hairbrush through her long locks and left it loose before once again taking up the phone and searching for the number for the hospital.

        She straightened up their room and made the bed quickly as the automated system chimed away in her ear.  She’d just fluffed the last pillow when it asked her to dial one for English. Seriously? She briefly wondered if two would be for the Frontlands and three for the Marshlands.  Finally she was able to dial the extension for Whale’s office and groaned as his nurse picked up. 

        “Dr. Whale’s office, can I help you?” came a nasal tone of the nurse Belle was more than familiar with due to her own visits to his office.

        “Hello, Drizella, how are you today.  I –“

        “Gurrrrrl, you just don’t know the half of it.  That weird guy who works in the cafeteria … wait, who is this?”

        Belle bit her lip to stifle her laughter at the little gossip.  “This is Mrs. Gold, dear.”

        “Oh, hi!” Drizella said cheerily.  “Um … I don’t suppose you want to hear about Chester … sorry.”

        “It’s alright.  I need to schedule an appointment for Mr. Gold to see Dr. Whale.  Would you happen to have anything open this afternoon?”

        “Lemme check … um … I have one for twelve forty five.  Will that work for you?”

        “Wonderful.  Thank you, Drizella.  We’ll see you then.”

        Belle shook her head as she shoved her phone into the pocket of her cardigan and disappeared into the bathroom to retrieve her wedding and engagement rings from their little wooden box on the vanity, slipping them onto her finger.  Ella’s stepsister was a flake, but Belle preferred her to the scheming princess any day.  She still hadn’t forgiven the girl for pepper spraying Rum in the shop or for the original deal which had landed him in the Charming’s dungeon.  Regina had taken great pleasure in telling her about both incidents.  She hadn’t understood why the brunette would be telling her about someone she didn’t know, but all had become clear once her memories had returned and she had been furious.  She had to wonder if the story of Cinderella was an accurate telling.  Drizella and Anastasia were a homely pair, but they weren’t cruel from what she knew of them.  Probably more of Ella’s ploys for sympathy.  Well, she’d get none from the Golds. 

        Rumpelstiltskin had cleaned up their breakfast dishes and was restlessly pacing about the main room.  “Hey,” she said softly so as not to startle him.  “I was able to get an appointment for twelve forty five.”

        “Wonderful,” he said irritably.

        “Don’t be cross, darling.  I’ll be with you the entire time.”

       

~*X*~

 

        Rumpelstiltskin sat stiffly on his chair in the examination room they’d been led into, flatly refusing to sit on the paper-covered table. Drizella wasn’t about to argue with the former Dark One and hurried through her check of his vitals.  Belle sat stoically next to him, not saying a word as she toyed with the sleeve of his black button down shirt which rested in her lap.

        “Your blood pressure’s a little elevated, Mr. Gold.  Did you drink a lot of coffee this morning or are you just nervous about seeing the doctor?  There’s no history of high blood pressure in your chart, but considering the state of things in this town and where we all come -” The nurse asked as she flipped her dark braid over her shoulder and put away the cuff.  She trailed off abruptly as Belle cast her a warning glare.  _Oops!_

        The look he shot her could have withered every tree in the forest.  “Rumpel,” Belle said softly.  He turned his gaze to her and instantly felt a bit calmer.  She smiled at the nurse.  “He’s just a bit nervous, Drizella.  No one likes to be poked and prodded.”

        “Totally understandable, Mrs. Gold.”  She made her notations on his chart and nodded at them both.  “Dr. Whale should be in to see you shortly,” she said cheerily and left them alone to let the doctor know they were ready.

        As soon as the door closed behind Drizella, Rumpelstiltskin’s good leg went to bobbing up and down and the hand he had atop his cane fisted until the knuckles turned white.  Belle grimaced.  Considering the level of anxiety her husband was experiencing, there was a good possibility Whale would end up on the wrong end of that cane.  “Rumpel, talk to me, darling.  What’s wrong?”

        He sighed and willed himself to calm as he turned slightly in his chair to look at her.  “I don’t know, Belle.  Perhaps a sense of déjà vu?  I just feel … wrong.”

        “You’ve been here before … many times.  Could that be it? Perhaps you’re remembering being here?”

        “I don’t think so.  It’s more a feeling of hospitals in general.”

        Belle wondered then just what had happened to him when he’d gone to New York.  She didn’t have long to ponder, however, as Whale opened the door and greeted them with a wary smile. 

        “Mr. and Mrs. Gold.”  He shook Belle’s hand briefly, enduring a dark glower from her husband and didn’t even attempt the gesture with Rumpelstiltskin.  “So, what brings you in today?”

        “Belle thinks I need a checkup … my ankle has been a bit more of nuisance than normal,” the former Dark One growled through clenched teeth as Whale gestured to the exam table.  He reluctantly pulled off his new boots and used his cane to lever himself up on the table, stretching out his bad leg.

        Whale frowned at the injured appendage as Rumpelstiltskin removed his sock to reveal the swollen joint with its scattering of thin white scars.  “How long has it been swelling like this?”

        “I don’t know … a few days?  It’s not like I can bloody well remember much of last week.”

        “Since his accident, Viktor,” Belle said, casting him a pointed look.

        “I see.  Well, we’re going to need x-rays.”

        Rumpelstiltskin crossed his arms over his chest and stared mutinously at Belle as Whale left the office to order the test.  “We could have gone swimming this afternoon, Belle,” he complained.  “We could have laid in the hammock together, read on the sofa, watched a movie, went –“

        Belle laid his shirt over the back of her chair and rose to stand beside him, rubbing her hand over his nape and kneading at the knots of tension.  “I know, Rum, but I’m worried about you.  It won’t take much longer.  The x-rays are a simple thing and then we’ll be on our way.  Don’t pout, love.”

        He was a bit calmer by the time an orderly returned with a wheelchair to take him down to radiology.  He balked of course and Belle was forced to bully him into it.  He held his tongue, however, when she was true to her word and didn’t leave his side.  Before he knew it, he was back in the little room and perched on the exam table once more.  Whale came in shortly after their return with two x-rays which he presented on the lighted screen affixed to the wall.

        “You have a hairline fracture here,” the doctor said, pointing to the thin while line near the joint.  “It’s nothing serious, but you’ll need to limit strenuous activity.  Since it’s an old injury which still causes you pain, I suggest you try to stay off of it for four to six weeks as much as possible.”

        “It’s all my fault,” Belle groaned.  “I should never have convinced you to go on that hike yesterday.”  She took his hand in hers and twined their fingers.  “I’m sorry, Rumpel.”

        “No, walking is good for him, Mrs. Gold.  It’s a form of exercise that his limited mobility can well afford.  Without the fracture I would encourage it.  You had no way of knowing.”  Whale paused as he continued to study the x-rays.  “Have you given any thought to the surgery I recommended on your last visit?”

        Rumpelstiltskin turned his troubled gaze to Belle rather than the doctor.  “What surgery?”

        “There is a surgical procedure that can fix your ankle,” she said in a neutral tone.  “They would have to go in and re-break the bones that didn’t heal properly and reconstruct them.  You weren’t amenable to the idea when we discussed it.”  She worried her lip as she watched the color drain from his face. 

        “No one is going to force you into anything, Mr. Gold.  I just want you to be informed of your options,” Whale said, making several notes on Rumpelstiltskin’s chart before reaching into his pocket for his prescription pad.  “In the meantime, I’m going to write you a prescription for Toradol which will help with the inflammation and one for Hydrocodone 10 for the pain.  You seem to be doing well with that one.”  He handed Belle the sheet of medications and smiled.  “Alright, any questions?”

        “What about the swelling?”

        Whale pressed his fingers along the scaring, trying to be gentle yet thorough as possible.  Rumpelstiltskin let out a yowl and his hand tightened in the shaft of his cane.  Belle snatched it out of his hand before he could whack the good doctor.  “Rum, behave,” she hissed.  She felt like she was dealing with a five year old.

        “Try to keep his ankle elevated as much as possible until it abates and you could also ice it down if it seems to be getting worse.  You remember how?”

        Belle nodded.  “Of course.  I know you said to limit his activities, but we’re staying at the cabin this week and I was wondering … will he be able to go swimming at least?”

        “Swimming would be good for him.”

        “I just love how you discuss me as if I’m your latest science experiment,” Rumpelstiltskin groused as he lowered himself from the table and sat down in the chair to don his socks and boots.  “Bloody charlatan.”

        Whale rolled his eyes, used to the man’s view of science.  “If there are any problems or if he gets worse, please feel free to call me.”

        “Thank you, Viktor,” Belle said, bidding him farewell.  She held the door open for her husband as he limped out of the room.  “That means you shouldn’t be driving either, Rum.  We can drop the Cadillac off at the house while we’re here in town and pick up the Fiat.”

        “Bloody hell!”

        Belle giggled and kissed his cheek.  “I can have your prescriptions filled here at the hospital instead of going to Dark Star if you want.”

        “Dark Star?” he asked, the name unfamiliar.

        “Mr. Clark’s family pharmacy on Main Street.  It’s usually very busy and it will cut into our day.”  She pointed down the hall to the hospital pharmacy.  “I’m sure it will just take a moment here.”

        Rumpelstiltskin nodded, trying to keep the pain in his leg from showing on his face.  One look at Belle told him he wasn’t fooling anyone.  “I’ll just wait here in the waiting room while you take care of that, shall I?”

        Belle glanced down the corridor again, and then back at Rumpelstiltskin, clearly torn about leaving him alone.  She’d hardly been away from him at all since he’d woken four nights ago in the shop.  “Maybe I should ask Dove to have it filled while we’re out today,” she murmured indecisively.

        “Belle, dearie, you don’t need to babysit me every second,” her husband grumbled, moving into the waiting room and sitting down.  He shuffled through the out of date magazines on the table next to him without giving her any further attention.

        “I’ll be ten minutes, Rum, fifteen at the most,” she said as he nodded and flipped through one of the magazines.  “Are you sure … nevermind.”  She turned back and glanced at him over her shoulder.  He was fine, she told herself.  It would only be for a few moments and then they could leave to enjoy the rest of their day.  She’d be able to hear him if he called out to her.  Yet, as she walked away, she couldn’t quite banish the unease churning in her gut.

        The stubbed heels of her flats clicked sharply against the ugly mint green and white tiles as she hurried away.  Maybe she was being too over protective of him.  He was such an independent man and he had to feel stifled with her hovering over him, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.  He was vulnerable and had no one else to watch over him.  She couldn’t bear to see him in any more pain, especially if there was some way for her to prevent it.

        Rumpelstiltskin tossed the magazine aside and pinched the bridge of his nose.  He was aggravated and irritable on the best of days, but the visit to the doctor had only amplified what he felt.  There was an itch beneath his skin, like the buzzing of bees and no matter how hard he tried to will the sensation away, it remained.  Scratching did no good and it left him in a constant state of agitation.  He rose from the uncomfortable plastic chair and moved over to one of the windows that overlooked the parking lot.  Belle was the only thing that seemed to keep the buzzing quiet.  She soothed him in a way he’d never thought possible and he ached when he was forced to be away from her.

        He didn’t want her to think she couldn’t leave him alone for a while though.  She didn’t need to believe that he was so needy that he needed to cling to her every moment of the day.  Just thinking of her helped to calm him a bit.  He knew he was slowly falling in love with her.  Not that he was ready to jump into the deep end and admit it to her just yet.  And he knew it wasn’t just because she was so steadfast in her resolve to help him.  It was so much more than her care.  It was the way her love shone so brightly in her eyes when she looked at him, the way her hands sought out contact with his when they walked together, the way she curled up against him in bed at night and held him close as if she could slay all his dragons and keep him safe.  It was a hundred little things and the list only continued to grow as his heart opened up to her.

        A small smile curled his lips as he leaned on his cane and watched the people below come and go.  He was so deep in concentration, thinking of his little wife, he was able to block out the flighty little nurse at the reception desk as she checked in a new patient and told her to have a seat.  He was not, however, able to mistake the voice behind him which sent a cold shiver of dread skittering up his spine to seize him and freeze the blood in his veins.

        “Well, well, well,” came the slightly accented voice with its air of superiority.  “Today must be my lucky day.  I am just overwhelmed with excitement.  How are you, doll?”

        Rumpelstiltskin swung around to face her, pressing his back against the wall next to the window as he held out his cane before him in an effort to ward her off.  His wide terror filled gaze darted in all directions, searching for an escape.  They were on the third floor, so there was no chance of fleeing through one of the many windows.  An orderly seemed to be posted at the two archways which led out into the corridor – though whether to keep them in or not, he wasn’t certain – and there were no other doors.  He was trapped and the witch was steadily advancing on him, her own blue eyes wide with delight.  “Z-Zelena,” he choked out, the panic rising in his chest.

        Her mouth widened in a Cheshire grin.  “Ooooh, I must admit this is a lovely look on you, Rumple,” she cooed as she drew closer.  “Much more relaxed than those stuffy old suits …” She delighted in the way he shivered at her touch when she reached out to lay a hand against his chest.  “… so much easier to take it off.  I’ve missed you, dearie,” she purred.

        Rumpelstiltskin shrank back against the wall as far as the unyielding drywall would let him, his chest tight as he fought to drag air into his starving lungs at an alarming rate which made it hard for his body to keep up.  “G-Get away f-from me!” he hissed, cursing inwardly at the way his voice trembled.  He needed Belle … where was Belle … he _needed_ her NOW!!  “Y-You can’t h-hurt me any … anymore.”

        The overhead fluorescent lights flickered and dimmed only to become nearly blinding once more as she grasped his chin in her steely grip and turned his face to hers, forcing him to meet her gaze.  “I never wanted to hurt you, Rumpel.  You brought that all upon yourself with your constant rejection of me.  I just wanted to love you.”

        A whimper caught at the back of his throat as his breath came in sharp pants, the air coming too fast, too hard and it burned his lungs.  He couldn’t find his voice to call out for help, he couldn’t find the words to make her stop.  His limbs were frozen and numb with fear and he couldn’t lift his hands to shove her away.  And still she continued taunting him mercilessly, her breath ghosting sickeningly sweet over his lips until the nausea in his stomach threatened to rise and choke him.

        “I wonder if I ask my sister nicely, if she’ll let you visit me,” she cooed, her hand rising to stroke his hair.  After all, it’s common knowledge your precious little wife doesn’t want you any longer.  You have no one else.  Wouldn’t you like that, pet?”

        _BelleBelleBelleBelleBelle_ , chanted through his mind as he tried valiantly to hold on to the last shred of his sanity.  One of the fluorescents shattered, sparks raining down on them from above.

        Zelena laughed softly, the sound grating and shrill.  “Someone seems to be having a problem keeping his magic in check.  Where’s your dagger, pet?  Apparently you need to learn some control.  I know all about controlling you, don’t I?”

        _Magic_ _… dagger_ _… cage_ _… spinning_ _… spinning_ _… spinning_ _… Belle_ _… Dark One_ _… curse_ _…_ The memories, mere flashes, a jumble of too many thoughts converging on him at once.  A year in the cage, Zelena’s prisoner, her foul hands and lips and teeth and tongue violating him over and over and over again.  Forced to do her bidding.  Forced to submit.  Forced to hurt people he cared about.  _I don’t want to do it_ _… pleasepleaseplease_ _… don’t make me do it._ Those recollections slammed into him with the force of a freight train, drowning out all the previous memories until there was only the witch and what she’d put him through with sadistic glee.  A sob tore loose from his throat and his eyes slammed shut, trying to push them out again, push the memories of the redheaded menace out of his mind so he could breathe again.  If only he could breathe!  But he couldn’t … not without his Belle … he needed Belle.  _BelleBelleBelleBelleBelle_.

        The witch shrieked in outrage as a hand twisted viciously in her hair and pulled her away from the object of her fun, a growled threat ringing in her ears.  “Get away from my husband!”

 


	10. Chapter 10

        “Belle, what are you doing here, dear?  Henry said you’d gone to the cabin for a few days so Rumpel could _rest_.”

        Belle groaned inwardly as that most hated voice met her ears, so filled with condescension it set her teeth on edge.  She and Regina would never be friends, but she wondered if she’d ever be free of the little tingle of apprehension that skated up her spine every time the woman was near.  She took the small bag of prescriptions from the pharmacist and shoved it into her purse along with the receipt before turning to the queen.

        “Rumpel’s ankle.  I wanted to have Viktor have a look at it,” she said in a neutral tone.  She mustered up a warm smile for the man next to her.  “Hello, Robin.”

        Robin leaned in and kissed her cheek.  “Hello, Belle, lovely to see you as always.  Is Rumpelstiltskin going to be alright?”

        “He’s fine, though grumpy as ever.  What brings the two of you here today?”

        Robin winced, his gaze dropping to the floor.  “Zelena is having her first ultrasound today and we’re here to make sure the baby’s healthy and all.”

        Regina smiled tightly as Belle’s gaze swung to her.  “Belle are you alright?” the queen asked as the color drained from the brunette’s face.

        Belle looked down the hall towards the waiting room, her breath hitching as she noticed the two orderlies stationed outside the arched entryways.  A whimper of panic tore from her throat as her heart slammed into her ribs.  “No!  Rumpel …” She didn’t offer an explanation, a goodbye or anything else which society deemed polite.  Her feet were already moving down the long corridor, one thought prevalent in her mind … Rumpelstiltskin and the sheer terror he would surely be feeling if he found himself trapped in the same room as that vile woman.

        She pushed past one of the orderlies and stopped dead in her tracks, rage, the likes of which she’d never felt before, rose up in her in a red haze.  To see that witch’s hands on him, taunting him in that cultured tone which left him shaking and frightened.  His lips moved silently, his eyes wide with fear and panic, yet he seemed frozen in the light of the threat.  Her bag hit the floor with a muffled thump as she hurried across the room, the carpet muffling her footsteps, and grabbed a handful of the witch’s long ginger tresses. 

        Belle yanked as hard as she could, reveling in the howl of pain and outrage Zelena emitted.  “Get away from my husband!” she raged, flinging her away from Rumpelstiltskin before letting go.  She took infinite satisfaction in seeing the woman stumble and barely catch her balance before she could tip over onto the floor.  Regina gasped as she came into the room, but Belle wasn’t concerned with her, magic or no.  “How dare you!”

        Zelena turned her stunned gaze on her sister, expecting sympathy from her.  “Are you going to let her treat me like this?”

        Robin arched a brow in her direction as if to say it was far less than she deserved, but Regina simply stared at her coldly.  But Belle wasn’t done, her hand snaking out and connecting sharply with the side of the witch’s face.  “You don’t get to touch him!  You don’t get to speak to him!  You don’t get to be in the same room with him!” she shrieked, her eyes brimming with angry tears.  “You’ve done your veritable best to _destroy_ him and I won’t _allow_ it any longer!”

        “Really, Belle, there’s no need to become violent,” Regina sniffed.  “We’ll just –“

        “What, Regina?!” Belle sneered.  “Continue to allow her to spew her bile.  I’m not going to let her hurt my husband any longer.”  She choked back the sob welling in her throat.  “She _broke_ him, Regina, and left him a shell of his former self because of her bid for power and some insane notion that she loved him.  But then, you’re all too familiar with her insanity, aren’t you, your majesty.”

        “Belle, there’s no reason to attack Regina –“

        “Oh shut up, Robin.  You truly have no clue as to what she’s capable of.  She’s changed, granted, but it doesn’t change her past!  And this …” she stared down her nose at Zelena – quite a feat with her diminutive stature – “… this bitch,” she spat, “is far worse.”  She advanced on the woman, her eyes flashing hotly, giving her no choice but to back up into the relative safety of her sister.  “I’ll warn you now, Zelena.  If I ever so much as see you within fifty feet of my husband again … pregnant or not … I. Will.  End.  You!”

        Zelena laughed shrilly and braced her hands on her hips as she sneered down at Belle, her lip curling back over her teeth.  “No, you won’t, dearie.  You’re a hero and heroes don’t kill.”  She looked over Belle’s shoulder at Rumpel’s shaking form.  “Though it would probably be a blessing to put him out of his misery.”

        Belle’s eyes narrowed as she drew in a ragged breath.  “Try me, Zelena.  I learned quite a bit of darkness while I lived with Rum in the Dark Castle.  You don’t want to test me.”

        Viktor rushed into the room, his face twisted into a mask of confusion.  “What the hell is going on in here?  Belle … Damn!” he cursed as he noticed Rumpelstiltskin pressed back into the wall, his breath coming in sharp rapid pants.  “Drizella, show Zelena and her family to room three, please.”

        Belle didn’t wait to see if they left with the nurse, her anger cooling minutely as she rushed to her husband’s side and watched him slide down the wall to sit on the floor and pull his knees up to his chest.  He whimpered softly and jerked away as the doctor reached for him, shrinking into himself.  She put herself between them, giving Viktor a warning look, and pulled Rumpelstiltskin into her arms.  He came willingly.

        She pulled his head into the crook of her neck and carded her fingers through his hair.  “It’s alright now, my love … I’m here now,” she crooned.  “It’s my fault.  I never should have left you.”

        A violent tremor shook him as he clutched desperately at her waist.  “ _BelleBelleBelleBelleBelle_ ,” he whispered brokenly over and over again.

        “Mrs. Gold … Belle, you have to get him to calm down before he passes out.  Do you want me to give him a sedative?” Viktor asked, worried for the man’s health.  “Or if you want, I can let you have one of the exam rooms for a bit of privacy.”

        “No,” she said, keeping her voice even so as not to upset her husband.  He needed quiet and calm just then.  “I’ve got this, Viktor.  He needs _me_.  That’s all.  Could you just keep everyone out for a bit and if it’s not too much trouble, have Drizella call Archie.  And I need a bottle of water.”

        “Of course.”  He rose to carry out her wishes, but her voice stopped him.

        “Viktor, I hope I don’t need to stress the need for your discretion.”

        “I won’t tell a soul, Mrs. Gold,” he assured her.

        “Well, this wasn’t what I expected,” Regina said softly from the shadows as the lights continued to flicker.  She knelt beside Belle and put a hand to her shoulder.  “He’s got –“

        “Please don’t say it.  He doesn’t know,” Belle pleaded, keeping her voice low.  She held onto him tightly, humming softly and rocking him gently.  “It’s alright, my love.  I need you to take a deep breath for me, Rum.  Please?  She’s gone now and I won’t let her near you again.  I promise, Rum, please … please I need you to breathe for me.”

        “Belle … is there anything I can do to help?” Regina asked. 

        Belle gave her a withering glance.  “Yes, you can keep your psychotic sister under lock and key until she turns to dust.”  She huffed out a bitter laugh.  “You should be beside yourself with glee seeing him like this.  The great Dark –“ She cut herself off before she said too much.  “Just go, Regina, please.  Just leave us be.”

        “I … no, I don’t, Belle.  At one time yes, I would have reveled in his weakness, but now –“

        “Don’t you dare pity him,” Belle hissed furiously, her body shaking with suppressed rage.  “He may be a little broken, but he’s still Rumpel and he will return to his former self.  You don’t want him to know you pitied him; he’ll hate you for it.  Not to mention your actions against me in an effort to rein him in haven’t endeared you to him.”

        Regina flushed guiltily, remembering leaving him just days ago to die on the floor of his shop as well.  Thankfully, the little librarian didn’t know about that.  “Regardless of my actions, you’re going to need help.”

        “Not yours.”

        “Then whose?” Regina snapped.  “You can’t do it alone.  Let me help you with him, I –“

        “Mayor Mills, Dr. Whale is waiting for you in room three,” Drizella called from the archway.  “Here is that water you wanted, Mrs. Gold,” she said, setting it on the floor beside Belle and giving her a conspiratorial wink.

        Belle offered her a wan smile, more than thankful for her interruption.  “Thank you, Drizella.”

        Regina rose and reluctantly turned to follow the nurse, but tried one more time to get through to Belle.  “At least think about it.”

        Belle hummed softly, hoping it would comfort her husband.  She didn’t have time to dwell on Regina right now.  She knew the former queen must be desperate for help with Emma if she was offering her services.  Nothing mattered aside from her husband and making him better.  “I’m here, darling,” she cooed softly, her voice a whisper of breath.  “That’s it, love … deep breaths.”

        He drew in a deep shuddering breath and whimpered when it burned his chest.  He concentrated on her voice, her scent and the warmth of her touch as she soothed away the sting of panic which held him tightly in its grasp.  “Take me home,” he breathed against her soft skin, his lips brushing against her neck.  “I don’t want people to see me like … like this, Belle.  Please.  P-Please … I want to go h-home … t-to the cabin.”

        Belle laid her head back against the wall and sighed in relief that he was slowly coming back to himself.  She uncapped the water bottle Drizella had brought and eased him back from her.  “Drink this, love.  It will make you feel better, ok?”

        “Mrs. Gold?” Dove’s soft voice intoned from the archway.  “Do you need assistance?”

        Belle shook her head, thankful he’d responded so quickly to the text she’d sent him while waiting on line at the pharmacy.  She dug in the pocket of her cardigan for the keys to the Cadillac, handing them to the gentle giant.  “No, Dove.  Thank you so much for coming.  Did you have any problems with the Fiat?”  She still wondered how he was able to squeeze his tall frame into her tiny car.

        “No, Mrs. Gold, no problems,” he smiled.

        She turned to Rumpelstiltskin who was leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed.  The hand holding the water bottle still trembled.  She reached out and grabbed his cane from where he’d dropped it.  “Here, Rum, let’s get you up now.  Easy,” she cautioned as he swayed to his feet.  She took the bottle from him and discarded it in a waste bin and then curled her hand in his free one.

        Drizella stopped them, her dark eyes sympathetic. "Mrs. Gold, Dr. Hopper wasn't in, but I left a message for him to call you as soon as possible on your cell. Is there anything I can do for you or Mr. Gold?"

        “No … thank you, Drizella,” Belle murmured as she urged her husband past the reception desk.  He stared straight ahead, refusing to meet the eyes of anyone they passed, fighting valiantly to hold himself together long enough to get home.

        They made it out of the hospital without incident.  Rumpelstiltskin didn’t even complain as he settled into the passenger seat of the Fiat.  Dove in turn, left to return the Cadillac to the house before going back to the shop.  Belle was going to have to see that he received a nice fat raise in his pay package.  The man really did go above and beyond for them.  She even drove extra slow so as not to scare him.  She bit her lip as she watched him from the corner of her eye.  He was withdrawn and sullen, keeping his eyes trained on the gold handle of his cane.  He didn’t seem to care for the passing scenery, nor for the conversation Belle tried to start with him.  He was a captive to the memories fighting for dominance in his head.

        Belle looked relieved when he took her hand again and followed her up the short set of steps onto the front porch of the cabin.  She quickly unlocked the door and went inside to throw the curtains wide to bring as much natural light as possible into the dim interior of the cabin.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered brokenly as she returned to his side and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into her embrace.  “I-I’m sorry, B-Belle … I didn’t m-mean to fall apart on you at t-the hospital.”

        “You have nothing for which to apologize, Rum … nothing,” she crooned softly, toying with the ends of his hair as she offered him comfort.  “She shouldn’t have been out of her cell, she shouldn’t have been allowed the freedom of the room where she could even talk to you.”

        His tears splashed against her skin and soaked into the fine cashmere of her cardigan as his arms slipped about her waist.  “Don’t let go, Belle, please … please don’t let me go.”  His cane clattered to the floor as his hands splayed over her back.  “I can’t stand this!  I don’t want to feel weak,” he spat, “but all I can see when I close my eyes is her touching me, Belle.  She’s touching and pawing and licking and it makes me sick to my stomach.”

        Hot tears fell from her own eyes, but she didn’t let go.  “She can’t get you here, Rum … I won’t allow it.  I won’t let her hurt you again … I promise.”

        “There’s more.  I think I remembered something and I can’t even trust my mind to tell me if it was real.”

        “Come with me,” she said, grabbing his hand and urging him to follow.  She led him into the kitchen to the back door, pausing only long enough to fetch two glasses and the bottle of scotch from the cupboard over the stove.  The late afternoon sun had begun to sink low over the tree line, casting its dappled light just past the edge of the back porch.  She sat on the chaise, her legs hanging over either side and beckoned him to sit between them and lean back against her chest.  When he’d settled back against her, she poured them each a small measure of the amber whiskey and handed him one before sipping her own.  She pressed her lips to his temple as she wrapped an arm over his chest, her fingers toying with the buttons on his shirt.  “Better?”

        “A little,” he agreed, taking a deep breath, one that didn’t feel as if he were breathing in the fires of hell.  “I can breathe easier out here.”

        Belle set her drink on the table next to her and laced her fingers with his.  “Tell me what you remember.  Maybe I can help?”  She tried to keep her touch light as her other hand stroked over his hair, his cheek with its day’s worth of growth, his chest and arms.  Her need to comfort was as strong as his need to be comforted and she prayed he wouldn’t push her away.  “Is this alright, Rumpel?  Are you comfortable here with me?”  She needed his reassurance that she was helping … especially after his most recent breakdown.  She needed to know that she was giving him what he needed.

        Rumpelstiltskin turned his head so he could press his face into the curve of her neck, breathing her in and letting her scent soothe him further.  The incessant buzzing, the unbearable itch beneath his skin which plagued him when he was parted from her eased away and he hummed low in his throat as he relaxed into her embrace.  “You always make me feel better, my Belle.  You soothe my soul.  I might not understand how it’s possible, but I can’t deny it.”  He felt more and more of his anxiety slough off of him as she continued to pet him.  “I don’t want to tell you what I remembered … I don’t want you to think I’m going round the bend.”

        Belle’s eyes stung with unshed tears.  True love … the most powerful magic … it was still there between them, still in his heart whether he remembered or not.  It gave her hope.  “I’m not going to think you’re crazy, Rum.  I love you … all of you.  Don’t be afraid to talk to me.”

        He sighed, closing his eyes as he let the memories wash over him.  “They were only flashes really.  Darkness … cold … pain.  I remember nothing, a dark gaping void of nothingness and then … you, Belle.  You were there in the moonlight, crying as if your heart were breaking … and a man.  Who was the man, Belle?  I know he was important, but I just can’t remember why!”

        A choked sob tore from her throat as she buried her face in his hair.  “Baelfire,” she whispered, waiting to see if the name sparked more of the memory.  She fought back a pang of disappointment that it didn’t.  “Your son, Baelfire.”

        “My _son_?  I have a –“

        “Had … h-he died, Rum.”  It was killing her to be the one to have to tell him, but she’d promised herself and him that she wouldn’t lie to him.  She couldn’t break her word.

        “I can’t r-remember.”  He squeezed the hand he held so tightly within his own, pressing it over his heart.  “I _need_ to remember.”

        “You will.  It’s slowly coming back, darling.  We just have to be patient.”  She kissed his cheek and rested her brow against his temple.  “Tell me more,” she urged.  “Try to focus and maybe it will unlock more.”

        He took a breath, inhaling deeply through his nose to maintain his fragile hold on his control.  “S-She was there … with a dagger … always with the dagger.  She was in my head and I couldn’t push her out and she ordered me to kill you.  I _wanted_ to kill you,” he cried, a shiver of fear tripping along his spine causing his wiry frame to jerk in her arms.  “Why?!  Why would she do that?  How could she make me _want_ it so badly?”

        “Shh, love, it’s ok … you didn’t hurt me.  You’d never hurt me, Rumpel … never.”

        Rumpelstiltskin brushed angrily at his tears with the back of his hand.  “Cage … there was … she put me in a cage like an animal.”  His chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath as the walls of his mind began to collapse in upon themselves, his heart slamming painfully against his ribs.  “She wanted me to … to hurt people … you … people I care about.  There was never any peace … not even in sleep … just pain.”

        “Oh, Rumpel …”

        “You came for me …”  He turned in her arms, his dark eyes large and liquid.  “You came for me, Belle.”

        Tears streamed over her lashes as she cradled his cheek in her warm palm.  “I did.  I couldn’t leave you there!!”

        “But I couldn’t leave.  S-She came and … I made you leave.  I made you leave before she could hurt you.  I made her … I made her punish me instead.”  He moved to her side, pulling her into his arms and blanketing her with his body, his grip almost painful.  “I couldn’t let her hurt you.  The witch could do _things_ … things I can’t explain, Belle.  It’s crazy … _I’m_ crazy.  I don’t know if it’s true or some kind of coping mechanism in my head.”

        Belle burrowed against his chest, reveling in the warmth and comfort he now offered her.  His innate need to protect surged to the surface despite his fear and surrounded her.  She was enveloped in his scent, his touch and she never wanted to let go.  “You’re not crazy, Rumpel.”

        His nose nuzzled against hers as he brushed his lips over the corner of her mouth.  “I’m so sorry I ruined our day.”  He traced over her full lower lip to the other corner to press a soft kiss.  “Forgive me,” he whispered.  “Please.  I’ll make it up to you.”

        She chased his lips with her own and caught his lower lip, giving in to the heady desire fogging her good sense.  The scotch he’d drunk only enhanced his own unique taste and it sent a surge of heat coursing through her veins as his tongue pushed past her lips to duel sinuously with hers.  He was careful, hesitant, as if he was just waiting for her to push him away as he explored the honeyed recesses of her mouth.  Her soft sigh, a moan, and she was pulling him closer, the hand at his nape urging him to banish the distance between them, begging him to take what he wanted. Delicious tongues of need pooled at her belly and sent tendrils of flame licking at her core.  It reminded her of their first time after the curse had broken and she’d been so broken herself.  He’d been almost afraid to touch her then too.

        “T-There’s nothing to forgive, darling.  You didn’t do anything wrong,” she purred deeply in her throat, her hands slipping beneath his shirt to rub at his lower back, her nails digging into his taut muscles.  “I don’t need anything else as long as I have you, Rum.”

        “My Belle … my _wife_.  All mine,” he whispered, nipping at her lower lip.  “You make me feel whole, alive.  You pull me out of the darkness and make me see that it’s possible to flourish in the light.”  He deepened the kiss, trying to convey his emotions without the need for words.  His long fingers twisted in the satiny strands of her hair, holding her a willing captive to his caress.  “I need you, Belle.  I feel safe with you.  You make me strong,” he sighed against her lips.

        “I’m here, Rum … my husband,” she moaned, tugging on his hair as she urged him to kiss her once more.

        Rumpelstiltskin withdrew, just a bit, silently bemoaning the loss of contact, but he wanted her to know.  “I’d be lost without you.”  He leaned in and kissed her again, his lips feverish against hers.  “You make me forget the pain she inflicted.”  He captured her hand and pressed it to his cheek, holding it there with his own.  “Your touch banishes hers.”  He turned his face into her palm and pressed a lingering kiss to her warm skin.  “You heal me, Belle.”

        She stared up at him in wonder, warm tears leaking from the corners of her eyes to spill over into her hair.  That he could trust her so much as to lay his heart bare to her … “We can heal each other,” she whispered brokenly.  If only he would still want her when his memories returned … if he could forgive her.  She’d already forgiven him for what he’d done, and that wouldn’t change.  Gods, she just wanted him to remember!  “Rumpel … I need you too.  We’ll heal together.  Together, anything is possible.”

        He offered her a tentative smile and let his head fall to her shoulder, his eyes heavy but his heart so much lighter.  His arms closed tightly around her, the tension seeping out of him as she returned his embrace.  It felt so good to have her soft little body wrapped about him, offering comfort and love.  For the first time in days, he wasn’t afraid to fall asleep, knowing she’d be there to watch over him.  His Belle would never let anything harm him.

 

~*X*~

 

        Belle groaned as she woke, her eyes blinking against the darkness which permeated their bedroom.  She peeled her tongue from the roof of her mouth and rubbed at her throat, feeling as if she’d swallowed a mouthful of sand.  Why was she so thirsty?  She smiled softly, in spite of her discomfort as she felt her husband nuzzle at her nape.  He was spooned against her back, one arm tight about her waist, the other curled around her shoulders to lay across her chest, one hand clamped firmly over her breast.  Slowly, she was getting accustomed to his sleeping patterns again.  Rumpelstiltskin had always clung tightly to her in the depths of his slumber, always fearing she’d be ripped from his arms in the middle of the night.  She hated to leave him in the bed alone, but needs must.

        Carefully, she pried his arms from around her, thankful that he didn’t wake as she eased herself off of the mattress.  She dragged her feet to the door, constantly glancing over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t suffering for her absence.  Finally, she turned the knob and let herself out of the room.  She couldn’t help but allow her mind to wander back to the events of their evening.  He’d been relatively calm as long as he was able to keep her in his sight.  The memories and what had happened at the hospital had left him on edge, still doubting his mind.  He wouldn’t tell her some of the things he’d seen, but she could tell when it became too much for him and she did her best to distract him.  She knew the _things_ he mentioned Zelena being capable of doing must involve magic.  He felt he couldn’t share the details with her because if he didn’t believe them to be possible, why would she?  Sooner or later, he was going to lose his control and then she’d have to explain it to him.  That wasn’t a conversation she was looking forward to.

        Belle had made a simple soup for dinner, using the fresh ingredients Dove had provided.  It was hearty and warming and seemed to comfort them both.  She’d let him choose their activity for the evening and wasn’t surprised when he chose to watch a movie.  She’d mostly been lost to her own thoughts, barely paying attention to the comedy, but he’d seemed to enjoy it.  The fact that he was stretched out on the couch with his head on her lap and her fingers in his hair surely had nothing to do with his happiness.  She couldn’t suppress her smile as she wandered into the kitchen and reached for a glass off the drain board.

        Rumpelstiltskin had grumbled when she’d ordered him to bed, but she wanted a decent start the next day.  She was determined to try again and have him relax and enjoy himself.  Even with the nap they’d taken on the chaise, he was able to fall asleep quickly.  Being there with him at the cabin reminded her of their time together at the Dark Castle when it had just been the two of them.  Things seemed less complicated without the problems which always seemed to crop up.  Out there, no one was constantly barging in on them asking for some magical solution to their dilemma, no research into the histories when someone new came into town. The peace and quiet of the cabin brought her a feeling of contentment and it was one she relished.

        Belle drank deeply from her glass, draining it and then refilling it under the tap.  Her nose twitched at a familiar scent.  It sparked more memories of the Dark Castle … ozone, wood smoke, and tallow … magic.  She gasped, the glass tumbling from her numb fingers to land with a crash in the stainless steel sink, the sound reverberating through the kitchen.  A tingle of fear skittered up her spine as cold fingers closed around her throat and a slender arm pulled her back against a lithe form.

        But it was the words spoken ever so softly, gently, almost reverently against her ear that caused her true panic.  It wasn’t the soft tones of her friend, but something altogether different.

        “Hello, precious …”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So the Dark One finally makes an appearance … dun dun dun!!! Wonder what she’s got up her sleeve for brave little Belle? Well, I hope I didn’t disappoint with the confrontation between Belle and Zelena. I know some of you wanted lots of violence, but I don’t see Belle that way. She’s a princess and has breeding and refinement. Though she’s not above a good bitch slap :D I also figured a little cattiness wasn’t out of place for Belle and Regina. There’s a lot of bad blood between them and as forgiving a person as she is, I can’t see her forgiving Regina any time soon. (sorry Claire!!!) I hope you’re still enjoying the story. I still have a lot of ideas of how I want this to go, so bear with me? Please? Thank you all sooooo much for reading and leaving me such wonderful reviews and comments. You guys rock!! See you next week :D


	11. Chapter 11

 

        The breath seized in her throat, the metallic twang of fear strong on the back of her tongue as those words whispered softly in her ear.  The hand at her throat was gentle, Emma’s thumb brushing whisper soft against the rapidly beating pulse beneath her jaw.  “Em-Emma?  What are you doing here?” Belle asked, trying to remain calm in the face of this new threat.  She didn’t know what to expect from the Dark One in someone else’s body.  Hell, half the time she hadn’t know what to expect from it in Rumpelstiltskin’s body.

        Emma nuzzled against Belle’s ear, almost like a cat seeking affection from its beloved owner.  “I missed you, little Belle,” she whispered hoarsely, her voice foreign and strange.  She shuddered as Emma’s tongue ghosted lightly over her ear.  It was just too odd and the action raised the fine hairs along her nape.  “Have you been purposely hiding from me?”

        Everything about this was wrong wrong wrong!  Yet she didn’t have a choice at the moment.  One slip of the tongue and she could find herself in trouble.  Not something she wanted considering her husband had no knowledge – much less control – of his magic.  He wouldn’t be able to save her if things turned ugly.  She would have to proceed with the utmost caution.  She swallowed around the lump of fear which had formed in her throat as the arm about her waist tightened.

        “O-Of course I haven’t been hiding from you.  Why would I?” she stammered.

        “Because you don’t want me to find _him_.”

        Belle’s fear slowly began to give way to anger and it was a simple thing to slip away from Emma and turn to face her.  “You can’t have him.  I won’t allow it.”

        The new Dark One laughed softly, the sound grating on Belle’s ears.  It was even worse to see up close the damage wrought to her friend.  Her mouth was twisted into a sneer, her emerald eyes alight with a manic gleam, her alabaster skin shining with an ethereal glow in the moonlight spilling in from the storm door off the kitchen.  “ _You_ won’t _allow_ it?  That’s mighty presumptuous of you, dear, to think that you could stop me.”

        “Why are you here?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.  “And how are you so in control of your … host?”

        Emma turned her back on her and sauntered casually into the main room, her pale fingers idly touching several knick-knacks on the mantle.  “I told you … I missed you.  The spinner, as well.  It’s odd to have my former host among the living when he should be trapped in the vault.  It’s where all the former Dark One’s go when I pass to a new host.”

        Belle followed, watching Emma warily.  “There is no peace for them?”

        The Dark One chuckled.  “And why would there be?  Not even the very inner circles of hell would welcome them.  Their crimes are too great.”

        This was more insight than Belle could fathom and she clenched her hands into fists to still their trembling.  The thought of her beloved trapped in that vault again, this time for eternity, was just a bit more than she could bear.  She gnashed her teeth, fear returning as she moved closer to the bedroom door, guarding it against this evil.  Rumpelstiltskin had been through enough.  It might be futile, but she would protect him with her last breath.

        Yet the demon was far from threatening.  “Don’t worry, dear, I have no plans to harm the spinner … or you, for that matter.”  Before Belle could blink, she found herself enveloped in Emma’s arms, her pert little nose buried in the crook of her neck.  Oh, this was getting awkward.  “I find myself out of sorts,” it whined.

        The Dark One sounded almost childlike in her petulance.  “Why is that?”

        The demon sighed, pressing herself against the petite woman who’d offered him nothing but comfort and love when he’d been hosted by Rumpelstiltskin.  She’d been a part of him because of the spinner’s love for her and it was as hard to be apart from her as it was from his former host.  He breathed her in, reveling in her scent.  “I don’t like my new host.  She’s … odd.  It hurts to have so much light in here battling my every thought.”  She purred as Belle’s fingers caressed her nape, recognizing it as a calming tactic she used on the spinner.

        “You could always find another,” Belle caviled.

        “I don’t have that much power and you know it, princess,” the Dark One sneered.  “I suppose I should be thankful that the little savior is so overwrought she doesn’t have the strength to control me yet.” 

        Well that answered one question, Belle thought.  “And you thought to pay us a visit between mischiefs?  I suppose I should be touched.”

        The demon chuckled, a rusty sound that grated on Belle’s nerves.  “Whether I want to admit it or not, I need you and the spinner.  He controlled me for so long, and there are gaps in my memory.  I need the two of you to fill in the blanks.” 

        Belle tried not to shudder as a wet tongue trailed up her neck.  Just what she needed … a _lusty_ Dark One.  Not to mention one that was completely in control and highly unpredictable.  She had to wonder how much of Rumpelstiltskin’s sexual appetites for her had been influenced by the demon.  “He doesn’t remember you, so there’s not going to be much help on that front.  And would it be too much trouble to ask you to stop licking me?  It was fine when you were being hosted by Rum, but this is just too weird.”

        The demon denied her by pulling her closer and pressing her back into the wall, her teeth nipping sharply at Belle’s ear.  “Don’t be afraid of me, little one.  I’d never hurt you … unless I had to.  And don’t fear for the spinner’s memories.  I could help you with that.”

        The breath caught in Belle’s chest as hope flared to life.  “Y-You could?  How?”

        “Because I am in control now.  When you were trapped in your Lacey persona … which I particularly enjoyed, by the way … I could have helped you if the spinner would have stopped trying so hard to fight me off.  I can return his memories if you wish it.  That was the problem with Rumpelstiltskin.  He was my host for too long.  He was too pure of heart.  He relished the power, but it had to be on his terms that he wielded it.  Always for the single minded purpose of finding his son.  His spirit crushed mine until I was merely a shell of my true self.  It wasn’t until he escaped the vault that I was able to slowly gain more control.”

        Belle closed her eyes, choking back a sob as her hands fell away from Emma.  “I should have known.”

        “I was quite excited when he tried again to cleave himself from the dagger.  Can you imagine how wonderful it would have been to wield the power without the constant fear that someone would be allowed to control us again?”  The Dark One frowned darkly as she leaned away from Belle and wrapped her hand loosely about her neck.  “But you put an end to that, didn’t you, precious?  You banished him and caged me in the process.  I suppose I should be angry with you, shouldn’t I?”

        “You’re just upset that you didn’t succeed in killing him so you could assume full control.  I couldn’t allow that to happen.  I couldn’t let you have him!”

        The demon surged forward, kissing her cruelly.  “Such fire!  I miss that.  Now, precious, are you going to let me help your spinner?”

        Belle struggled to be free of the Dark One’s grip, unable to bear it a moment longer.  “No.  No matter how much I need him to remember, I won’t make a deal with you.  You forget how well I know your tricks.”

        The demon sneered, her hand tightening over her captive’s throat.  “I could simply take him from you.  I need him to tell me how to get to Camelot to prevent Merlin from destroying me.  It’s imperative that I get there before this town’s oh-so-noble heroes and their insane belief that they will be able to save the little savior. Rumpelstiltskin is the only one who knows how to get there, and it’s not like you could stop me from taking him if I wish.”

        _Whack!_   “Get the hell away from my wife!”

 

~*X*~

 

        “… _And the man beneath him may be flawed, but we all are.  And I love you for it.  Sometimes the best book has the dustiest jacket.  And sometimes the best tea cup is chipped_ _…”_

        Rumpelstiltskin smiled in his sleep and nestled his head more deeply into the pillow, letting the memory of his wedding to Belle carry him further into the dream.

        “ _…I love you so much, sweetheart,” he murmured as he laid her gently on the bed.  Candlelight bathed her in its warm glow, giving their bedroom at the cabin an almost ethereal light.  His lips found hers and his body surged to life.  His heart thundered against his ribs as she reached for him, all the love in the world shining in her eyes_ _… only for him_ _… always for him.  He didn’t deserve this precious woman who’d given her heart, her life, her very soul into his keeping.  She’d fought so hard for him, never swaying in her battle to win him.  And now she was his_ _… forever._

_“I love you, my husband,” she whispered against his lips, her hands tangling in his shaggy hair.  “So much, my darling.  Always_ _…”_

        The dream faded, but not the memory of it as he reached out to wrap his arms about his wife.  He cracked one eye open, panic beginning to rise in his chest as he looked at the empty sheets next to him, cool to the touch.  Where was she?  He sat up in the bed, rubbing a hand over his damp chest, his ears pricking as he listened for her.

        The cabin was eerily quiet, without a whisper of sound.  Where could she have gone?  He refused to believe she would just abandon him, especially in the middle of the night.  There was no light beneath the bathroom door, so he knew she couldn’t be in there.  Perhaps she’d had trouble sleeping and ventured onto the porch as they had last night.  He reached for his cane and slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed, leaving his feet bare against the rug.

        He made no noise as he reached for the doorknob, not wanting to startle her if she had fallen asleep again on the sofa in the main room.  She had so much to cope with, focusing all her energies to caring for him.  He wouldn’t be responsible for causing her more distress.  He eased the door open and had to fight back an anguished howl as he saw the dark figure pressing his wife up against the wall that separated the den from the kitchen.  Who would be stupid enough to invade their home and threaten his Belle?

        Her lovely features were twisted with fear, the figure’s hand clasped about her alabaster throat and he felt a rage so intense it staggered him.  His need to protect his beloved writhed and clawed at his gut and he took each step with measured caution until he found himself within reach.  He hefted his cane up by its ebony shaft and brought it down with a sickening crunch against the attacker’s head, feeling immense satisfaction as the figure dropped like a stone to the floor to lie there unmoving.

        “Rumpel!” his wife cried, stepping over the prone figure to wrap her fingers around his wrist.  “Rumpel, no!”

        He stared at her incredulously.  “No?! What do you mean, no?  Belle, she was hurting you … threatening you!” he hissed.

        “It’s complicated.”

        “Again with the ‘it’s complicated’.  What the hell is going on?!?”

        Belle slipped her arms about his waist and burrowed against his chest, relieved that he’d put an end to the Dark One’s cloying touch.  “Thank you for saving me,” she whispered breathily.

        Rumpelstiltskin pulled her closer, crushing her to him as he watched the figure warily.  “Gods, Belle, if she’d hurt you …”

        “But she didn’t.  It’s ok now,” she assured him.

        He pressed his brow to hers, his grip on her not loosening in the least.  “I can’t lose you, Belle.  I can’t.”

        “You won’t.”

        He pushed her behind him as the figure moaned, one hand rising to rub at the back of her head.  “Who is she?” he asked as he knelt down next to Emma.  “Why is she here?”

        “This is Emma, Henry’s other mother.”  She had to jerk the cane out of his hands as he raised it threateningly.  “Stop that!”

        “But –“

        “Belle!” Emma moaned. 

        “Emma?” Belle asked warily. 

        “Yeah, it’s me, but I don’t know … I don’t know how much time we have.  You’ve got to …” she moaned again as her fingers felt the lump on the back of her head.  “Thanks, Gold.  What have I told you about hitting people with that thing?!”

        “Dearie, I don’t know who the hell you are, much less do I remember you warning me,” he snarked.

        “Enough, you two,” Belle said, taking Emma’s hand and helping her to sit up.  “What is it you need, Emma?  How did you gain control?”

        “I don’t know.  You need to call Regina.  We’re going to need her.”  She leaned over and clasped her head in both of her hands.  “Hurry, Belle.”

        Belle ran to the bedroom and grabbed her iPhone off the nightstand, quickly scrolling through her contacts to find the mayor’s number.  The former evil queen was not happy about being disturbed.  “Do you have any idea just how late it is?  This better be good.”

        “Come to the cabin.  I have Emma,” was all Belle said before swiping her finger across the end button.  She wasn’t disappointed as Regina poofed into existence in the main room and knelt next to her friend.

        “You couldn’t have taken time to change out of your nightie?  Though I must admit it’s quite fetching,” Emma said in a snarky tone.

        Regina flushed and flicked her hand over herself, changing into a pair of dark grey pants and black silk blouse.  “Better, Swan?”

        “Much,” she agreed, reaching out to clasp her hand.  “But enough of this.  You have to help me keep control now that I have it.  I don’t want that parasite taking over again.”

        Regina produced a cuff from her pocket and held it up for Emma’s brief inspection before slapping it over her wrist.  “There, problem averted … for the time being.  If the magic is blocked, you should be able to maintain control over yourself without the Dark One being able to use you.”

        Rumpelstiltskin fell over hard to land on his arse, scrambling away from the two women, his eyes wide and disbelieving.  He grabbed for Belle, wrapping his arm about her waist and hauling her behind him.  “I don’t know what witchery you two are up to, but you can get the hell out of my house!”

        The lights flickered and the dining table rattled on its spindly legs.  “Rum, darling, look at me,” Belle said, moving to his side against his protests and taking his face in her hands.  “They’re not going to hurt us.  I need you to calm down.”

        “Calm down!?” he cried and one of the bulbs in the overhead light shattered with a myriad of sparks.  He cringed and pulled her onto his lap, trying to cover her head with his arms.

        Regina arched a brow.  “Well …”

        Belle shot her a fulminating glare which had her at a loss for words.  Emma sighed and stared down dismally at the cuff on her left arm.

        “How can you be so calm about this?!  She appeared out of thin air.”  He buried his head in his hand.  “I really am going crazy,” he groaned.

        “What’s wrong with Rumpelstiltskin?  When his curse was broken, did he lose his magic?” Emma asked, looking to Regina for answers.  She jumped as a chair flipped over onto its side and skidded several feet across the floor.

        Belle cursed softly as he moaned and pressed the heel of his hand into his right eye.  “Go!” she ordered.  “Regina, you have Emma now.  You can help her.  Get out so I can hopefully explain things to Rumpel without your gods awful interference.”

        “Should I leave you a cuff for him?  I’ve got a spare.”

        “No!  I’m not bloody well cuffing my husband!” she raged.  “Now go!”

        Emma didn’t give her a chance to argue, grabbing Regina by the arm and leaving through the door before they upset Gold further.  When they’d gone he collapsed, burying his head in Belle’s lap, hissing in pain.

        “Rum?” Belle asked softly, carding her fingers through his hair and gently kneading his nape.  He trembled in her arms, but it wasn’t from the shock of what he’d just witnessed.  “Rumpel, it’s ok, love.  I’m here, it’s ok.”  He wrapped his arms around her legs, his grip near the point of pain, but she endured every moment of it.  She wasn’t at all happy about the sounds pouring from him in a torrent.  “Is it your head?  Do you need me to get you some aspirin?”

        “No!” he managed to choke out around the bile rising to strangle him.  His head felt as if a thousand tiny knives were stabbing into it as three and a half centuries of memories slammed into his brain.  It was as if the dam holding them back had collapsed and the deluge couldn’t be contained or stopped from wreaking their havoc.  He felt sick, his stomach roiling in protest, but he held it back.  Milah … Baelfire … the beggar … dagger … Dark Castle … the queen … Belle … It was nearly more than he could bear, but he forced himself to remain still.  He’d gone through this before, so long ago when Emma had finally come to Storybrooke and unleashed his memories, breaking the hold of his cursed memories and restoring himself to his true persona.  To think this time all it had taken was hearing his own name.  Names held power after all.

        Belle pressed a kiss to his temple.  “I’m so sorry, darling.  Don’t be afraid.  I promise you’re not going crazy.”  She winced as his grip tightened again.  “There are just things I need to explain to you.”  Finally, some of the tension drained out of his shoulders and he seemed to breathe easier.  “Are you alright?  Let me help you to bed.  You’re going to catch cold lying on the floor.”

        He shivered as her small hand caressed his back, her nails scratching softly.  “I’m fine,” he rasped out, his voice scratchy from the effort he put forth to keep his agony at bay.  “Yes, bed … that sounds good.”

        Belle bit her lip anxiously as she watched him struggle to his feet and take the cane from her outstretched hand.  “Rumpel, are you sure you’re alright?”  He still wouldn’t look at her and it began to prey on her already frazzled nerves.

        He raked a shaky hand through his hair and nodded, swaying unsteadily on his feet as he trekked into the bedroom.  He couldn’t crawl back into the bed with her just yet, though.  His skin buzzed and felt tight over the play of muscles beneath.  Not to mention he’d been lying on the floor in nothing but a pair of flannel pajama pants and despite the cleanliness of the cabin, it didn’t feel right.  “I’m going to take a shower,” he told her, fetching clean clothes from the bureau and making his way to the bathroom.

        Belle sat heavily on the side of the mattress and followed him with her gaze.  Something was terribly wrong apart from the usual anxiety he’d been suffering of late.  Of course the mention of magic and him doubting his own sanity could be it … but she didn’t think so.  This went deeper.  He was shying away from her and that wasn’t like him.  At least not how he’d been for the better part of a week.  She just hoped when he had a few moments to gather his thoughts, he’d share them with her.

       

~*X*~

 

        Rumpelstiltskin slammed the palm of his hand into the cool tiles as he let the hot water stream over his head.  Tears stung his eyes as his chin dipped lower against his chest. His precious boy. He was being forced to relive it all over again. The loss, the grief, the unimaginable pain of never seeing him again. The salty tracks of his tears were washed away in the hot spray, yet they continued to fall, a testament of his soul deep ache.         He did everything in his power to push the thoughts away. It would not serve him well to have his wife find him like this again. His beloved had endured enough in the past week, their combined suffering enough to last them a lifetime.  Rumpelstiltskin shivered as he thought of the hell he'd put her through, the hell they'd both been through as the memories of his torture at Zelena's hands had resurfaced.  He hit the wall again, disgusted with himself.  Belle should have been repulsed by his display of weakness, yet she hadn’t.  She’d stood beside him and had done everything in her power to soothe him.  He was the biggest fool to ever walk the planet.  How could he have ever believed she didn’t truly love him, that she’d walk away at the first sign of adversity?

        Well … she had at one point, but it was his own fault.  If he’d just had faith in her enough to confide in her, their marriage wouldn’t have been a sham.  She would have helped him cleave himself from the dagger and their relationship would have only become stronger as they worked towards a common goal.  They had so much to work through, and now he wouldn’t let his fears get in the way.  He would be open and honest and everything she wanted him to be … everything _he_ wanted for himself.

        It wasn’t long before he heard her enter the bathroom, then the whisper of cloth as she peeled her pajamas from her curvaceous form.  How long had he been in the shower, he wondered.  He should have known she wouldn’t allow him too much time before she would come to check on him to assure herself he was well.

        He smiled as he felt her arms slide around his waist, her cheek pressing between his shoulder blades.  She rained kisses over his wet skin and rubbed soothing little circles over the taut plane of his stomach.  His diligent little dearie.  She wouldn’t allow him to suffer alone.  Yet now, even as her touch soothed, it also inflamed.

        “How are you feeling, my love?” she asked, coaxing him to turn around so she could search his face for answers he might be reluctant to give.  He was so open, so expressive and she could read him like a book, especially since his curse had broken.

        “Belle …” he breathed, burying his face against the smooth curve of her neck, his lips teasing her wet skin, his tongue licking the moisture away as he reveled in the taste of her.  “My beauty, my wife.”

        “Rumpel …” she replied, biting down on her lip to quell her moans as his hands roamed over the expanse of her back and lower still to cup her bottom and pull her flush against his body, his arousal pressing deliciously against her belly.

        His lips trailed a path of hot openmouthed kisses along her shoulder and over her throat until he could nip playfully at her ear.  And he couldn’t hold in his love for her another moment.  She had to know.  He had to say it.  “I love you,” he whispered, holding more tightly to her than ever as she melted into his embrace.  She sobbed her joy, her tears mixing with his own as they found their way to the drain.

        “I love you too, Rum, so much.”

        Rumpelstiltskin kissed her deeply, pouring every ounce of love he felt past her sweetly parted lips, swallowing down her delightful moans which left him hard and aching to bury himself within her.  But not yet.  No, first he had to tell her.  “Do you remember … when I brought you home after I’d rescued you from Ursula, Cruella and Maleficent?  You asked me why did I care about you?”

        She gasped, staring up at him with hope in the depths of her cerulean eyes.  “You …”

        “I wouldn’t answer you because I was afraid.  Instead I told you if anyone was going to kill you, it would be me.”  He cradled her cheeks in his damp palms and kissed her again, softly, tenderly, opening himself to her.  “It was because I loved you, Belle.  Even though I could lie quite convincingly to your face … I couldn’t lie to myself.  I couldn’t banish what you made me feel.  I loved you then, and moreso I love you now.”

        “Is this what you dreamed tonight?  You remembered part of our past?” she asked, not daring to let her hopes rise too high.  It had happened before, had been happening more and more of late, and it would hurt so badly if it had only been a dream.

        He shook his head, smiling down of her with an impish grin.  “Oh, no, my darling wife.  It was no dream.”

        Belle gasped, clinging to him as he pressed his brow to hers and stared deeply into her eyes, the light of recognition, awareness and love so evident in his own.  “You remember!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So so so sorry for the short chapter, but this was the most logical stopping place. They have a lot to talk about and it was going to make this chapter uber long, so I had to split it. We only have a few more chapters to go. I’m aiming to be finished before the premiere so keep your fingers crossed, would you? I really hope you weren’t disappointed with the return of his memories, or with Belle’s little talk with the Dark One. I really enjoyed writing it for you. Please continue to leave your wonderful feedback. It feeds the muse and keeps me writing. Thank you all for your support and I’ll see you next week :D


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There is smut in this chapter :D

 

        Rumpelstiltskin held onto her tightly as she buried her face against his chest and sobbed, great heaving cries that shook her entire body and left him feeling helpless.  He’d never seen her cry like this before.  She’d always been so brave, had always been the stronger one in their relationship.  To see her give in to such despairing wails tore at his heart.  “Sweetheart, please don’t cry,” he crooned, stroking her wet hair.  “I’m so sorry I put you through so much.  Can you ever forgive me?”

        He winced as those words seemed only to make her cry harder.  “I don’t even know how you can stand to look at m-me right now … after what I did!” she moaned, barely coherent.

        He frowned, shaking his head.  “What are you talking about?  There’s nothing to forgive. You’ve been wonderful, Belle.”

        She raised her watery azure eyes to him, shame and hopelessness burning in her gaze.  “I left you to die, Rumpel.  When I found the gauntlet and it let me to the real dagger … I felt so betrayed.  I knew you loved your power more than me, and I just couldn’t accept it.  I –“

        “Belle, I don’t love anything more than I do you,” he murmured, cradling her face in his warm hands and presseing a tender kiss to her lips.   

        It brought on a fresh wave of tears.  “But you said it would lead one to their enemy’s weakness, that it would be the thing they loved most.”

        “I said _most_ times a person’s weakness was the thing they loved most.  Sweetheart, my greatest weakness was that infernal dagger, but you …” he kissed her again, his lips lingering a bit longer this time.  “You are what I love most in this world, Belle.  I tried to explain, but –“

        “But I was too angry to listen.”  Her lower lip quivered and she ducked her head, unable to meet his gaze as shame rushed up to choke her.  “I couldn’t get past my anger.  I was so afraid you would say anything to manipulate me into letting you stay, but it was no excuse for what I did.  I sent you away with nothing, Rumpel!  Not even your cane.”  It just made it worse when he cradled the back of her head and tucked her beneath his chin.  How could he be so understanding, so loving when she’d practically sent him to his death? 

        “You felt you didn’t have a choice,” he whispered, his hand coming up to caress her nape.

        “Rumpel!  You had no money.  I left you with only the clothes on your back, no magic, no cane, no hope,” she sobbed.  “It’s a miracle you even made it to New York.  It was cold and you were exposed to the elements, not to mention any predators that might have come upon you.”

        “Shh, love, I understand. I forgive you.”

        “How?!  When I can’t even forgive myself!”

        “Because I love you,” he said, his arms tightening about her as she tried to pull away.  There was no way he was going to let her retreat now.  “And because I’ve done so many things … too many things to have you forgive _me_.  Yet you have.”

        Belle nuzzled her face against his throat, unmindful of the water cascading over them.  “I missed you so much.  When I realized what I had done … it was too late.  After I’d stopped feeling sorry for myself, I packed a bag and went to the town line.  I was determined to go after you, but I … I was afraid.  What if I couldn’t find you?  What if you didn’t want me anymore or couldn’t forgive me?  I knew I wouldn’t be able to come back.”

        His long spinner’s fingers curled in her hair, dragging her head back so he could look down into her eyes.  He wanted her to see the depth of emotion within his own.  “I will _always_ want you.  I married you because I love you, Belle, because I was afraid of losing you.  _Never_ think I will stop loving or wanting you. All I could think about was finding a way back to you.”

        He forestalled her protests, his mouth slanting over hers.  His lips slid sinuously over hers in a gentle caress, his tongue smoothing over the seam until she opened like a rose in bloom and invited him inside.  He poured every ounce of love he felt into her, his tongue sweeping over the roof of her mouth, his teeth nipping at the soft pink flesh of her lower lip, seeking out every contour of her mouth which he knew brought her pleasure and would leave her breathless.

        Rumpelstiltskin reached behind him and cut off the spray when he felt her shiver, realizing it wasn’t just his kiss that affected her so.  They’d been in the shower so long, the water had grown cold.  He let go of her long enough to grab a towel from the rack and wrap it about her shoulders.  She bit her lip, watching him anxiously as he wrapped another about his hips and stepped out of the tub.

        He sat down heavily on the closed lid of the toilet, cursing his bad ankle, and drawing her between his parted knees.  “Come here, love.  Kneel down for me so I can dry your hair,” he commanded softly.  “Let me take care of you for a change, hm?”

        Belle did as he asked, resting her brow against his chest as he toweled her hair dry.  “Rum?  Would you … um … would you tell me about New York?”

        He sighed.  He should have known she’d ask.  He didn’t want to tell her, knew it would only contribute to her grief, but he’d already promised not to lie to her again.  “Are you sure you want to hear about that, Belle?  Can’t we just put it in the past?”

        “I need to know,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist as he pushed her long swath of hair aside so he could dry her back.  “I don’t want to always wonder.  I don’t want it to come between us later.  Please.”

        He was silent for a long moment, concentrating his efforts on drying her off.  Finally, he rose and pulled her up with him, ushering her back into the bedroom to seek the warmth of their bed.  He didn’t speak until he had her safely cocooned beneath their nest of blankets, wrapped tightly in his arms.  “I waited for you,” he said, his voice no more than a whisper.  “I waited for you to reach through the barrier and pull me back.  Please, Belle, don’t make me tell you.”

        She trembled with the effort to stifle her sobs.  “Go on.  I need to hear this, Rum.”

        He drew in a ragged breath and looked down into her watery eyes, wanting nothing more than to banish her pain instead of adding to it.  “When I realized you weren’t coming back, I made my way to the crossroads and hitched a ride with a trucker.  He was an amiable fellow; good company.  He took me as far as the Williamsburg Bridge and I was able to use public transportation to take me the rest of the way.”

        “How could you afford public transportation?  Where were you going?” she asked, her nose wrinkling as she frowned.

        “I wasn’t completely broke, darling,” he said, dropping a kiss to her brow.  “I still had my billfold if not my wallet.”  He’d left it on the worktable in the back of the shop, as he’d hurried out that morning.  He’d been so consumed with his plan, he hadn’t thought twice about it.  “I had enough for the transit system, a few meals, things I would need when I reached Bae’s apartment.”

        She brightened a little at that.  “You stayed in Baelfire’s apartment?  You had shelter?”

        He laughed bitterly.  “Not exactly.  Apparently, Regina thought it would be fitting to give my son’s apartment to her lover and his wife.  When I arrived, they had already made themselves at home.”

        Belle leaned up, bracing her weight on her right arm as she loomed over him.  Her lovely face was knit in a puzzled frown.  “Wait … what?!  How did they get in if _you_ have the keys on your ring?  I know you do, I’ve seen them.  When Bae died and Emma cleaned out his room at the bed and breakfast, she left them for you at the shop.  They were rightfully yours since you’ve been sending automatic payments to the landlord for over a year now in case Bae wanted to go back.”  Her hand fisted in the sheet where it lay over her husband’s stomach, outrage making her warm.  “How dare Regina simply give it away?”

        Rumpelstiltskin pulled her down across his chest, his fingers stroking through her hair, being ever mindful of the tangles.  “Sweetheart, a thief of his caliber doesn’t need keys,” he said, giving her a meaningful look.  “It wasn’t the first time he broke into someone’s home, if you’ll remember.”

        “Did you boot them out?” she asked, watching him carefully through the fringe of her lashes.  “Poor Roland.”

        “I didn’t get the chance.  I got into an argument with Hood and promptly fell over with a heart attack.  I woke sometime later in the hospital.”  He cursed softly as she burst into tears, burying her face in her hands.  He rolled her beneath him and tried to pry her hands away, which proved fruitless.  “Belle … Belle, stop!”

        “It’s all my fault!”

        “It is _not_!”

        “Again, I wasn’t there for you and you almost died,” she wailed.

        “Sweetheart, look at me,” he murmured, his voice dropping in register as he found a spot between her fingers to kiss her cheek.  “I’m here and I’m fine.  Still kinda fuzzy on the details, but I am indeed fine.”

        She pushed out of his arms and moved to the edge of the mattress so she could grab several tissues from the box on the nightstand to dry her tears and blow her nose.  “What did the doctors say?” she asked in a small voice, still not quite ready to face him.

        He rolled over onto his back and closed his eyes, giving her all the time she needed.  “The usual.  That I needed to adjust my diet and get more exercise, but I knew what was really wrong.”

        “It was because of your curse? It affected you differently outside of Storybrooke, but it affected you nonetheless?”

        “You have to understand …” He huffed in frustration.  “Would you please come and lie down with me again?  I’m tired of talking to your back.”  He winced as she turned back to face him, her skin blotchy and her nose red, but it didn’t deter him from pulling her back into the circle of his arms.  “When I died … you should have left me there.  You and Baelfire should never have brought me back.”

        “We couldn’t just leave you there, Rumpel.  If there was some way to bring you back, we weren’t going to rest until we found it.  Bae needed you … _I_ needed you.”

        “Oh, Belle …”  He trailed the backs of his knuckles over her cheek, smiling sadly.  “I need you too, my love.  But you don’t understand what the vault is like.  I was locked away with so much evil, so much darkness.  It ate away at my soul.  When I was alive, it took me a long time to be able to control the Dark One.  Locked together in the vault … he’s so powerful, Belle.  He was so strong there and I felt as if I would go mad.  I existed on a plane of nothingness.  Just he and I, trapped for an eternity together with all those who had played host to him in the past.  Whispering constantly what he would have liked to do to you and my son nearly drove me insane.”

        “And we saved you from one nightmare to thrust you into another.”

        “It wasn’t your fault, nor Bae’s.  Bae was tricked into opening the vault.  He wasn’t told the price of the magic.”  He closed his eyes against the pain and grief he felt would always be with him over the loss of his son.  “But what I suffered in the vault, combined with what I went through at Zelena’s hands … it took its toll.  The Dark One wanted control and I was fighting a losing battle.  My heart was already so full of darkness from my many misdeeds, there was little of me left.  I think the only reason I was able to survive as long as I did was because of my love for you and Bae.  The things Zelena made me do only contributed to the darkening of my heart, and by then it was too late.  I had to find some way to break the dagger’s thrall.”

        “So when you found the hat, and knew it for what it was … you saw it as your last hope to save yourself.  Rum, why didn’t you tell me?  I would have done everything possible to help you.”

        He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around her again.  Why was it so easy to talk to her … _now_?  Why couldn’t he have let go of his fears before everything had fallen apart?  He’d wasted so much time with miscommunication, lies and betrayal.  “I was trying to save _both_ of us.  I wanted us to be happy … together.  You would never approve of my actions. If I could have finished the spell, I would have been able to keep my power without the Dark One destroying any more of me and I would have had you by my side. It was the only way, Belle and I knew you’d hate me for it.  I knew that from the start, but it’s who I am.  I’m a man who makes bad choices if I can achieve my goals.”

        She slipped her arm about his waist, her fingers trailing along the small of his back.  “If you hadn’t gone about sucking people into that blasted hat, I could have found the help we needed.  You never ask for help, Rumpel, and I swear it’s going to be the death of us.”

        “I’ll never let anyone harm you, Belle.  I won’t take chances with you and put your life at stake.”

        “Just our love,” she whispered sadly.

        “Not again, Belle.  I can’t lose you again.”  He nuzzled his nose against hers, his hands roaming freely over her back.  “I’m so sorry I lied to you, sweetheart.  Please forgive me,” he whispered, opening himself up and giving all, hiding nothing. 

        “I already have.  The night the apprentice removed your curse and I thought I was going to lose you.”

        “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

        Belle nodded and leaned up to trace her lips over his unshaven jaw.  “How much do you remember?  Of what happened in the shop after you collapsed?”

        “Nothing.  I remember being alone with you … pain … fear for what might happen to you.  Then I woke up with no memory to find you and Regina hovering over me.”

        Belle hummed in displeasure.  “Yes, and I think between the two of us, we’ve had enough amnesia to last us a lifetime.”  He shrugged his eyebrows in that way of his that never ceased to amuse her.  “The apprentice, when he removed your curse, he said there was a chance you might not come back to me.”

        Rumpelstiltskin groaned pitifully as her lips followed a path to his ear. “I’ll always return to you, Belle.”  He tried his best to ignore the embers of flame licking at his belly.  “How is it that Emma wound up with the curse of the Dark One?”

        “From what Regina told me, it was going to take her, and Emma threw herself under the bus, so to speak,” she admitted wryly.  “Frankly, I’m just happy it didn’t come back for you.”

        He sighed.  “Someone is going to have to help guide her.  That cuff is not going to suppress all that dark magic forever.  She needs to learn control.”

        Belle sat up, her expression bitter and angry.  “Let someone else help her!”

        “Belle …”

        “No, Rumpel.”  She curled her arms around her knees as she drew them up to her chest.  “I’ve had a lot of time to think lately.  They care _nothing_ for us aside from a source of magical aid, research or if they need a bloody babysitter.  Don’t get me wrong … I love little Neal, but enough is enough.  Let them stew for a bit … we’re on vacation.”

        His fingers skimmed along the bumps of her spine as he laughed.  “Alright, dearie, who are you and what’ve you done with my wife?”

        “Rum, I’m serious.  Would it really hurt them to wait a day or two?  You don’t even know if you’re going to be able to use your magic in the same way.  If you aren’t … well, they’re on their own,” she snarked, resting her chin on her knees and leaning forward so he could touch more of her if he wished.  “Actually, I’m surprised you’d even care after the complete lack of regard they’ve shown you.”

        He shrugged.  “I thought it was what you would want.”

        “I want to concentrate on you … on our marriage.” She tossed him a hot look over her shoulder, her eyes saying it all.  “I want to make sure _you’re_ ok.  You know my conscience won’t allow me to just abandon them, but _you_ are my first priority.  In a day or two, we can go gallivanting off to help the ‘heroes’ if you wish.”

        “We?”

        She arched a brow at him.  “Do you really think I’d let you out of my sight?”

        “So it’s to be like that, hm?” he asked, wrapping his arms about her waist and pulling her back down to lie beside him.  “The former Dark One and his consort?  I think I’d rather it be just Rumpelstiltskin and Belle for a while.”

        Belle pressed her fingers to his lips as he reached to pull her down into a kiss.  “Rum, are we ok?  You forgive me?”

        “Belle, sweetheart, I forgave you a long time ago.  I understood why you did it and I love you too much to hold it against you.  You forgive me?”

        “Yes.”

        “Then we have a new beginning and I won’t be squandering it.”

        She traced the curve of his upper lip with her index finger, stalling for time.  “You believe now that I _do_ love you?”

        He nodded, pressing a kiss to her finger before drawing it into his mouth to suck gently.  “You’ve more than proven it just in the past week.  I don’t have room in my heart for doubt any longer, love.  You’ve filled it with you light and your love until there’s no room for anything else.  Except maybe a few wee ones later on … i-if you wish it?”

        Belle’s entire body softened as she relaxed into his embrace.  Not only did he finally believe in their love, but he wanted a family with her too.  She couldn’t imagine anything which would make her happier.  “I want that too, Rumpel.”

        “When you’re ready,” he said softly, his smile gentle and warm.  He wouldn’t ask her to stop her birth control regimen until she was ready.  It would be her decision, but he couldn’t help but be a little selfish and hope it was soon.  They still had a long road ahead of them before they would be stable enough to start a family.  “In the meantime …”

        Belle wrapped her arms about his neck as he rolled her beneath him, blanketing her with his body as his lips found hers.  Her belly clenched pleasantly as a familiar heat rose between them, the press of his bare skin to hers enflaming her.  His touch was no longer hesitant as his hand covered her breast, his skilled fingers tweaking her nipple and making her wriggle beneath him.  It had been so long since they’d been together like this, with the firm knowledge between them that there would be no stopping this time.  She wouldn’t push him away in fear that his previous trauma would be triggered if she touched him in the wrong way.  He had his memories back, and with it, the knowledge of how best to handle such situations.  She would be patient and loving with him as she’d been before.

        Rumpelstiltskin’s fingers delved into her hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue plundering every sweet contour of her mouth, enhancing her pleasure as well as his own.  Desire thrummed just beneath the surface of his skin, urging him to hurry as the blood in his head surged lower to settle in his groin, but the sane and rational part of his brain reminded him to go slow, to show her how much he loved her.  To him, every time was like the first time they’d come together … with heat and passion and an all-consuming love he’d never felt for another.

        Belle moaned softly as his teeth captured her lower lip, tugging at the soft pink flesh before suckling gently.  Gods, how she’d missed him … how she loved him, her Rumpel, her husband.  They’d put the past behind them, forgiven one another for their trespasses and had a whole new beginning.  A fresh start to love again.  Her hands ghosted ever so gently over his sides, clinging to him, telling him without words how much she wanted him, _needed_ him.

        She arched beneath him as his lips trailed a fiery path from the corner of her mouth, and over the smooth curve of her jaw to the pulse beating frantically beneath.  His tongue darted out, licking over her salty sweet skin to taste her and she felt as if her heart would burst from the sheer pleasure of it all.  He sought out the spot beneath her right ear which had her hips bucking helplessly, and his hand drifted low over her belly to settle over her mound.  His touch was so gentle as he exerted just enough pressure to calm her.  His fingers traced feather light over her cleft, teasing until she groaned in frustration when finally he parted her nether lips and touched her aching folds.

        “Yes!  Touch me.  Please, Rumpel …” she begged, unable to withstand the torture of his caress, his fingers dancing over her flesh everywhere but the place she needed him most.

        “My Belle,” he growled against the curve of her neck, his teeth scoring her flesh, drawing it into his mouth to bite gently.

        Her beast, even free of his curse, he still yearned to devour her, to claim her and mark her as his own.  She was _his_ , and she’d shout it from the rooftops to all who would listen that she belonged solely to him.  As much as she’d always valued her independence, this was one part of her that _wanted_ to be owned.  She needed his love just as much as he did hers and she wasn’t ashamed or afraid of the deep seated ache to be possessed by him.  A high keening cry burst past her lips as his thumb brushed over and around her clit, her head spinning from the fire coursing through her.  It was only amplified as his lips left no inch of her breast untouched, his teeth scraping over her nipple before drawing it deep within the hot recesses of his mouth.

        Her right hand tugged at his soft hair as her nails dug into his nape, unable to stop touching him.  Her hips thrust upwards as his fingers found her entrance, teasing at the tight ring of muscle before plunging inside, curling up to press against her inner walls.  He rubbed ever so gently, increasing her frustration as he smiled against her skin and swiped his tongue in a slow path between the valley of her breasts. 

        Finally, he thrust his fingers deep within her, groaning as she clenched around his clever digits, imagining her heat wrapped snugly around his cock.  She was so incredibly beautiful in her passion, her eyes the color of sapphires, dark with desire, her petal soft lips parted and swollen from his kisses, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she labored to breathe.  She threw her head back and thrashed beneath him as she exploded over his thrusting fingers, her folds convulsing around him, her thighs quivering.  Her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ as the breath froze in her chest with the onslaught of her climax.  She was the most amazing woman he’d ever known in his long existence and he knew he would love her forever.

        Rumpelstiltskin cursed softly as his ankle throbbed in protest.  He flipped over onto his back, pulling her with him to straddle his waist.  He didn’t realize his mistake until it was too late.  His cock throbbed painfully with the need to come, but his skin broke out in a cold sweat as she loomed over him and he could taste the acrid twang of fear on the back of his tongue.  Belle’s gasp barely registered on him as he whimpered softly, his entire body trembling.

        “Rumpelstiltskin, open your eyes,” she commanded gently.  “Look at me, darling.  Open your eyes.”

        He waited for the compulsion of the dagger to sweep over him, to force him to obey, but it never came and he warily opened his eyes, fear clutching his gut as he expected to see long red hair and pale white skin, the countenance that haunted him in his nightmares.

        “Look at me, Rum.  Say my name.”  Her hands swept over his chest in a gentle caress, soothing, tender instead of sharp nails and violence.  “Say my name, my love.”

        “Belle …” he breathed, but still the fear rode him hard.  “Belle … trick.  It’s a trick.”

        She leaned over him and pressed a kiss to his chest over his heart.  “No, my Rumpel, it’s no trick.  You’re here with me … your Belle.  Nothing can hurt you here,” she crooned, laving at his nipple and smiling as he bucked beneath her.  “We’re here at the cabin, in our bed.”  Her fingers traced over his wrists.  “No manacles, no chains, no dagger.  You’re free and you are loved.”

        “Belle …”

        “That’s it, my husband, yes.  _You_ are in control.  There is no one here to steal you free will.”

        “My Belle … my wife,” he moaned, his hands tentatively reaching for her, settling over her thighs to trail up to her gently rounded hips.

        Belle breathed out a sigh of relief as she watched his eyes clear, his demons retreating.  “That’s it, my love.  You’re ok.  I’m here.”  Her hands never stilled in their ministrations, caressing him with just the right amount of pressure to his fevered skin, leaving no inch of his chest and stomach untouched.  Slowly, he relaxed, arching into her, hips bucking up, his hard cock sliding against her slick folds.

        The numbness finally receded from his limbs to be replaced by a fresh surge of desire and more heat than he thought he could bear.  He needed her so much.  He shivered as she reached between them, her delicate fingers wrapping about his shaft and guiding him to her entrance. 

        “Rumpelstiltskin, do you want this?  Want me?  It is your choice, my love,” she said in all seriousness.  She wouldn’t assume anything.  She wanted to make it clear that he was in control, needed him to know that it was his choice and that she would never force him to do something against his will.

        “Want you … “ he panted as she stroked him with the greatest of care.  “Need you … need to love you … my Belle.”

        Belle slid over him, drawing him deep within her quivering heat, and both of their moans could be heard echoing through the room.  Her teeth sank into her lower lip as his fingers dug into her hips, reveling in the sensation of her husband buried deep within her.  He arched beneath her, his back bowing as she tightened her inner muscles to welcome him home.  She rose over him, holding his gaze as she slid back down with ease.  She set a steady pace, wanting to prolong his pleasure for as long as she could.  She fought against the waves of bliss assailing her, focusing all her energy on him.

        “Rumpel, open your eyes, love,” she whispered brokenly, not wanting his demons to return to torment him.  This was about their love, and she wouldn’t have that witch come between them again.  She wouldn’t have his fears rise between them and take this away from him.  “I love you.”  She leaned over and claimed his lips, thrusting her tongue inside his mouth in time with her movements as his hands slipped over the swell of her arse, his hips rising as she descended, again and again.  She could feel his pleasure mounting, his movements frenzied now, and she gave herself over to him, allowing herself to relax and seek what she’d been denying herself.

        “Belle … “ he panted, “I _can’t._ ”

        She stared down at him, and instantly knew the problem.  He’d never be able to find his release in this position, not with his demons forcing him to remember how the witch would take her pleasure from him.  Her hand tightened in his hair, making him focus on her once more.  “Take me,” she moaned.  “Claim me!”

        Rumpelstiltskin rolled with her, pulling her beneath him as his lips crashed down on hers, his tongue slipping past her teeth to plunder her mouth.  His hips moved erratically, his desire overtaking him, as he did as she’d asked.  Her legs wrapped around his waist as she met his thrusts, the new angle giving him more depth and she shattered around him, her walls convulsing around his shaft until he howled, finally losing himself in her welcoming warmth.  She clung to him, holding him tightly as her sanity returned, whispering words of love and praise in his ear as he buried his face against the curve of her neck.

        “T-Thank you … love you … my Belle, my heart,” he breathed against her skin.

        Tears stung her eyes as she cradled him close.  “I love you, too, Rum … always.”  His arms tightened about her when she moved to leave the bed, but he let her go as the pleasant lassitude of being sated and replete seeped into his muscles.  He wasn’t afraid to release her for the moment, and relaxed into his pillow to await her return.

        Belle went into the bathroom and cleaned herself up, returning to his side with a warm washcloth to do the same for him.  When she was done, she covered them with the thick tartan blanket and pulled him into the circle of her arms, his head resting against her breasts.  “Sleep, my love.  You’ve more than earned it,” she whispered softly, carding her fingers through his soft hair.

        The sun had already risen when she finally closed her eyes and sought her own slumber, safe in her husband’s arms.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: FINALLY!!! I hope you liked it. I’m trying my best to repair the fuckery of their relationship that the show destroyed last season. I hope you weren’t disappointed :D OK! Next chapter: Belle shares the information the Dark One told her about how Rumpel is the only one who knows how to get to Camelot to find the infamous mage, and Rumpel struggles to come to grips with the difference in his magic. Henry comes to see his grandfather.
> 
> I’d like to say thank you to a very special person in my life – Emilie Brown. She stays up with me at night when I can’t sleep, she listens to my rants, and never ever fails to amuse me. And without her I wouldn’t have these beautiful covers for my fics. She puts so much time and effort into creating this art and I wanted to make sure she knows how much I love and appreciate her. Thank you, my darling <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains smut.

**WARNING:**   This chapter contains smut.

 

 

        "It's not working," Rumpelstiltskin growled as his magic misfired for the third time and another flower pot of chrysanthemums smashed to the plank floor of the back porch. Belle hadn't been pleased to wake and find him outside struggling to gain control over the power he'd been left with after his curse had been removed. She thought he should have waited for her.  "Why isn't it working?!  I can't even produce a decent fireball."

        "Perhaps you're over complicating, darling," she grimaced, looking over at the charred remains of the hammock. She liked that hammock.  "Is there anything I can do to help?"

        "No," he sulked.  He closed his eyes and concentrated, focusing his mind on the energy thrumming beneath his skin. Belle walked in a slow circle around him, and he cracked an eye open with a sigh. "What are you doing, sweetheart?"

        She stopped in front of him, studying him intently. He'd already refused her offer to call Regina - not that she'd wanted to call her in the first place - and she was all out of suggestions. If she only knew more about his magic, she would have a better idea of how to help him. Unfortunately, he'd always been rather closed mouthed about anything pertaining to his power. "Rumpel, maybe you're trying too hard. How do you know it will even work the same?"

        "Apparently, dearest, it's _not_ working the same. If it were, I wouldn't have almost burned the cabin down twice already," he hissed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

        Belle smiled at him indulgently. "Perhaps the reason it's not working is because you're trying to use white magic as you would dark magic and it's fighting against you instead of with you."

        "Belle …" he began in a placating tone. "I was the Dark One for centuries -"

        She cut him off with a look, her lips pursed in irritation. "- and still haven't learned from your mistakes."  She sighed and pushed her hair back off of her brow. "I know you've never wanted to expose me to more magic than absolutely necessary -"

        "To protect you!" he cut in.

        "-- but I can't help you if you won't let me in."

        He walked away from her, his cane tapping softly against the porch. He was doing it again, shutting her out when he'd promised to be open with her. He only wanted to keep her safe. Why couldn't she understand that?   _No one decides my fate but me._ Her words from so long ago whipped through his mind, a stark reminder of her courage.

        "I'm sorry, dearest. I really am trying to be more open with you, but it's difficult."

        Belle moved to his side and hugged him tightly. "The fact that you just acknowledged your fault shows me how much you're trying, Rum. I can't ask for more than that. I do want to help, though.

        “I don’t see how you could,” he sighed, casting her a pained look.  “You have no idea how complex the inner workings of magic can be.”

        “Nor will I learn if you don’t explain it to me.”  She grinned up at him cheekily, wrapping her fingers around his where they rested on his cane.  “When you meet a potential student, what is the first lesson you teach?”

        “Belle,” he groaned.

        “Please tell me,” she asked, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. 

        His grin was positively wicked as he looked down at her innocent expression.  “You are such a manipulative little minx.”

        “I _did_ learn from the best,” she said coyly.

        “Fine,” he acquiesced.  “The first lesson is to learn how to call forth the power and try to control it.  I think of the worst memory I possess and use it to fuel my anger.  If I can control the anger, I can control the magic.”

        “Hm … dark magic, correct?”

        “Of course, dearest.”

        “You don’t have dark magic any longer, Rum,” she said, stating the obvious.  She wrapped her arms about his neck and pressed closer.  “What if you used a happy memory?  Emotion is key isn’t it?”

        “Brilliant, Belle …” he snarked.  “Because I have so many happy memories.”

        She nuzzled against his neck, feeling the magic begin to surround them whether he realized it or not.  “I think you’ve a few tucked away for a rainy day.  The time I fell from the ladder and you caught me?”

        “I hid for three days in my tower, unable to face you for fear you would know how I felt about you.”

        Belle hummed happily.  “I know.  I never thought you’d come out.  What about when Jefferson freed me from the asylum and you saw me for the first time in your shop when I came to you?”  She knew that memory still affected him more deeply than he cared to admit.

        He crushed her to him, his eyes stinging with tears.  “That day rivals the day I found Baelfire.”

        “See, darling? Another good memory,” she crooned softly as she placed a tender kiss below his ear.  “And our wedding?”

        “I was a wreck.  I wanted to marry you so badly, Belle, but at the same time I was worried you’d discover my duplicity with the dagger.”

        “The day you returned from Neverland?  You and Bae had made amends and we’d been reunited … you were happy, Rum.  You have many happy memories … now just let yourself feel them.  If anger and fear fuel dark magic, shouldn’t happy memories filled with love fuel white magic?”

        Rumpelstiltskin still wore a rather bemused and skeptical expression, but he nodded, willing to trust her.  She was the smartest woman he knew and if anyone could glean knowledge about his power, she would.  “I’ll try.”

        He closed his eyes as she stepped away to give him room, concentrating on the happy memories Belle had reminded him of, but there was one he kept returning to … their first kiss before the spinning wheel before everything had gone so wrong.  He remembered the sweetness of her lips pressed to his, the gentle touch of her hands caressing his shoulders and tangling in the ends of his hair, and the way her eyes shone with happiness and hope.  He wouldn’t lose focus now as he imagined what it could have been like if he hadn’t panicked.

        Belle moved to stand behind him, her cheek pressed between his shoulder blades.  “Look, Rum … look at your hands, my love,” she cooed, so proud of his achievement.

        Rumpelstiltskin frowned down at his right hand as he flourished it.  “Belle, this is not a fireball.”

        “No, but it’s a start, right?” she asked, marveling at the pure white glowing orb in his palm.

        He shook his head.  “It feels wrong and won’t heed my commands!”

        “Maybe it’s because you’re trying to command it as you would your dark magic?”

        “I don’t like it,” he grumbled.

        “At least you retained magic after the curse was removed, Rumpel.  That has to make you happy,” she said, trying to reason with him.  “You will gain control over this as you did before when you were first cursed.  You just must be –“

        “Please don’t tell me I need to be patient.”

        She giggled and pressed a kiss to the center of his back.  “Fine … I won’t tell you then.”

        Belle wasn’t laughing three hours later, however, when he finally called a halt to his practice.  So far he’d been able to produce an ‘adequate’ fireball – though nothing like those he’d been able to form as the Dark One – he’d turned her invisible … twice, performed a simple glamour – had he really needed to give her pink hair – and transported himself to the front yard of the cabin.  Of course now, he was exhausted, not having the same stamina as when he’d hosted the Dark One.  She was more than a bit tired herself.

        “Well, at least we know you’re on the right track,” she said as he sat on the chaise and produced one little glowing orb of light after another.  “But I think you need to rest now.”

        “I still don’t like how it feels, Belle.  It’s unwieldy and …” He made a face.  “… itchy.”

        Her husband rose unsteadily to his feet as she watched him, worry darkening her azure eyes.  “How’s your ankle, Rum?  Were you able to heal it sufficiently?” she asked as he took a few steps towards her.

        He sighed, the lines around his eyes and mouth deepening with discomfort.  “It’s not as healed as it was before, but it’s bearable.  I won’t be running any marathons or chasing after my grandson any time soon, but I can walk on it without the need for my cane now.”  He buried his nose in her hair as his arms curled about her waist.  “I don’t think I’m up for a nap, dearest.  How about we go for a swim instead.  I know you’ve been wanting to get into the water since we came up here.”

        Belle glanced up at him hopefully, excitement making her eyes sparkle.  “Really?  You’re not too tired?” she asked, wondering how their day could get any better.

        “I’m fine, sweetheart,” he assured her.  Granted, he was feeling the effects of the unfamiliar power, but he didn’t want to disappoint her.  She’d been working so hard to take care of him through his crisis, she deserved to have a little fun.  “It will relax us both.”

        His wife squealed with delight and threw her arms about his neck, embracing him tightly as she fitted her delicate curves to his lean lines.  His body responded immediately, swelling and tightening in all the right places.  His heart wrenched as he said a prayer of thanks.  He thought never to have the right nor the pleasure to hold her like that again.

        “Ok, I’m going to go change.  Do you know where your new trunks are –“

        “In the dresser,” he answered, smiling indulgently at her.

        Ten minutes later, he stood silently on the porch, frowning down at his mangled ankle.  Even after centuries, the sight still bothered him greatly.  He was surprised at how accepting his wife could be of the tracery of scars and poorly healed muscle.  Her words drifted easily through his mind, bringing a faint smile to his face.  _It’s a part of you, Rum.  It, along with all of your other little quirks, makes you who you are.  It’s just another layer._  

        The storm door closed behind him, and Belle smiled appreciatively at his trunks and black t-shirt, all the way down to his feet which were encased in black thong sandals.  It wasn’t the ones she’d bought him on their shopping trip, but they would do as long as he was comfortable.  He frowned at the cover-up she had over her own bathing suit.

        “Ready?” she asked, adjusting the towels she had slung over her arm.  The smile he shot her was more of a grimace as he took her hand and let her lead him along the path beside the lake.  How long had it actually been since he’d gone swimming? Was it a bad sign that he couldn’t remember?  “What’s wrong, darling?” she asked, noticing the lag in his steps.

        “Nothing,” he replied a bit too quickly.  Then he forgot how to breathe, to think, to move as she dropped the towels in the grass and removed the navy cover-up which had moments before concealed her svelte form.  His mouth watered as he took in the navy and white polka dotted halter top and low slung boy short bottoms.  He had to admit he’d seen models in magazines wearing far less in the way of swimming attire, but the suit Belle had chosen was perfect for her.  His hands itched to touch her.

        “Good,” she said brightly, reaching out to tug at the hem of his t-shirt.  “I can’t wait to get into the water.”

        “You … um … you don’t have to wait for me, sweetheart,” he said with a nervous chuckle.  He cursed silently as her smile dimmed.

        “I thought you _wanted_ to go swimming.”

        “I do, but …”

        “Rumpelstiltskin, do you not know how to swim?” she asked, smoothing her hands over his bare chest in a distracting manner.

        His brow furrowed and his gaze lowered, not wanting to see disappointment in her clear gaze.  “I can’t ever remember going swimming except in the small stream behind our cottage when Bae was a boy, and then it wasn’t all that deep.”

        “And the lake is much deeper,” she said with dawning understanding.  “It’s ok, I won’t let you drown, Rum.”

        She kicked off her sandals and held out her hand to him, urging him to follow her.  He sighed and rid himself of his own footwear, clasping tightly to her hand as she stepped into the water.  The sand squished unpleasantly between his toes as he waded out into the murky water, ripples batting against his calves.  He remained calm, more mesmerized by her happy smile than what he was doing, trusting her not to lead him into danger.  The water was pleasantly cool, the mild Maine summer unable to warm it sufficiently.  It rose higher on his chest until it reached his neck and he stopped.

        Rumpelstiltskin could see her legs treading through the water, her free arm waving back and forth, cutting through the surface to keep herself afloat.  “This is good right?” he asked, wishing to go no further.

        Belle glanced over her shoulder at the platform with its ladder sitting in the very middle of the lake.  “Wouldn’t you prefer to swim over there?” she asked coyly.

        He could see how much it meant to her.  It would even be a good way to show her how much he trusted her.  “What do I do?  Erm … how do I –“

        “Just relax, darling,” she cooed softly, reaching out for his hands.  “Push off from the bottom and kick your legs.  I promise I won’t let you sink.”

        He instantly panicked as his head went under, but she pulled him up.  He spluttered and finally remembered to do as she’d instructed, his kicking and her tugging propelling them across the lake to her desired destination.  She was a strong swimmer, he found, much to his great relief.  Finally, he found his coordination and before long they were clinging to the ladder which led onto the platform.

        “Who taught you how to swim, Belle?” he asked, leaning his head against the ladder as he fought to catch his breath.

        “My papa taught me.  Sometimes, when he could tear himself away from his duties, we would go down to the shore and spend the entire day swimming and playing in the surf.”  She moved around to his side of the ladder and wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling against his throat.  “It was nice.  He would always make time for me in the summer … at least until the ogres began threatening our kingdom.”

        “Now I regret not showing you the lake at Dark Castle.”

        “It was far too cold to go swimming, Rumpel, and I wasn’t with you past the first of spring to test it out,” she said, clinging to him as his right arm wrapped securely about her waist.

        “I’m sor-“

        Her fingertips pressed gently to his lips.  “Don’t even,” she murmured, replacing her hand with her lips.  He forgot all about apologizing again for sending her away so long ago as her hands carded through his wet hair and her tongue swept hotly over the seam of his lips.  She trusted him implicitly to keep her afloat and let her hands roam freely over his body, the chill of the water no match for the fire in his blood. 

        He gasped against her mouth as she reached down and cupped his burgeoning erection.  “Belle …” he moaned, letting his head fall back against the wooden platform.  Now that he’d accessed his new power so successfully, it only heightened his senses, causing the heat uncoiling within him to reach alarming proportions.  He would never have enough of her touch.

        She trailed her lips along his unshaven jaw to nip just beneath his ear, smiling when she felt his hips buck against hers.  “I missed you, Rum.  Not just with the amnesia … but before as well.”  She sucked the water from his skin and raked her teeth along the darkening love bite.  “I’m so grateful fate has a way of bringing us back to each other.”

        “I’ll … I’ll always … always come back to you, Belle … as long as you’ll have me,” he panted.  She pushed at his trunks, lowering them enough to pull him free from the confining fabric so she could stroke over his tumescent flesh.  The cool water in contrast with the heat of her hand made him gnash his teeth and fight for his flagging control.  “Love you … my Belle.”

        “No, Rumpel … forever.  Open your eyes, my love,” she commanded gently, her hand never ceasing its delicious friction on his shaft, her thumb swirling slowly over his tip.  His eyes were nearly black with desire as he heeded her command.  “I love you.  I will always want you and we aren’t going to let anything stand in the way of our happiness ever again … I promise.”

        “Please … Please, Belle …”

        “Tell me what you want, darling,” she cooed, nibbling at his lower lip and tugging gently with her teeth in a way she knew he liked.  “Tell me what you need.”

        He held her gaze as the arm about her waist pulled her closer so he could grind himself against her.  “You.  I need you.”

        Belle kissed him deeply, pouring all the love in her heart out in a single kiss as she reached between them and moved her bottoms aside, lining them up as she wrapped her legs around his waist.  He howled as she sank down onto him and enveloped him in her heat, startling the birds to flight.  “Are you alright?” she asked, cradling his cheek in an effort to get him to focus on her.  “Rum?”

        Rumpelstiltskin shivered, his entire body trembling, but it wasn’t due to his previous trauma or a bad memory.  “You feel so good, my Belle … so good, love.”

        Belle relaxed and let the heat and pressure and unmistakable pleasure sweep her away, losing herself in his arms as she set a torturously slow pace, wanting to make it as good for him as possible.  She wanted to replace his bad memories with good ones they could create together.  “Stay with me, Rum.  Just let yourself feel,” she purred, tugging gently on his earlobe with her pearly teeth.  She cried out as he thrust up, meeting her as she came down on him, his cock driving as deeply as he could go.  “Yes!”

        The water lapped at them, the cool lake water soothing fevered skin as they climbed the peak together to plunge down the other side into a blissful abyss.  Rumpelstiltskin sank his teeth into her shoulder as he felt her convulse around his cock, drawing his own climax to the fore, spilling himself within her.  He had to force his hand to remain wrapped around the ladder as his body went limp and boneless.  Belle held tightly to his shoulders, a beatific smile on her face as he softened and slipped out of her.  She helped to right their clothing before she urged him up the ladder and onto the platform.

        “I think that was well worth the pink hair,” she teased, curling into his side and resting her head against his chest as he collapsed back against the wooden decking.

        He chuckled, squeezing her hip affectionately as he folded an arm behind his head and let the rays of the sun warm them.  “I apologized for the pink hair, Belle.”

        “And you know I’m only teasing.”  She leaned up on her elbow to trace his lips with her index finger.  “I’ve had fun with you today, Rumpel.  See how lovely it can be when there’s no secrets between us?”

        “Yes, my darling wife.”  He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips.  “And the day is far from over …”

 

~*X*~

 

        Teasing fingers, tracing over his bare stomach, brought him out of a deep sleep.  Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes fluttered open to stare up into his wife’s smiling face.  She was still wet from a recent swim, water pooled in the hollow of her throat where it dripped from her chin.  “You let me fall asleep,” he said in an accusing tone.

        Her grin widened.  “You were tired,” she murmured softly, dipping her head to press a kiss to his lips.  “You needed your rest, so I went for a swim and let you sleep.  How do you feel?”

        The mage thought for a moment, unable to bite back his own grin.  “I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed.  My mind is quiet, my body sated … it’s different without the Dark One constantly whispering in my ear.”

        “I think when you adjust, you’ll feel better for it.”  She bit her lip thoughtfully.  “Does it frighten you to know you’ve lost your immortality?”

        He rolled over onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow, his expression worried.  “I would think it would concern you more, Belle.”

        “Why would you think that?”

        “Under normal circumstances … if we’d met and married as two mortals, without the magical interference of my curse … there’s still quite a gap in our ages, dearest.  I’m going to age now and –“

        Her lower lip trembled.  “I’ll still love you, Rumpel.  That won’t change simply because you have a little more gray in your hair or lines on your face.  You’ll always be beautiful to me.  We’ll grow old together, have the family we want and be happy.”

        Rumpelstiltskin pulled her against him and buried his face against the curve of her neck, breathing her in to regain some control over his rioting emotions.  Gods, how he loved this woman!  There had been so much conflict, so much time wasted, and he could barely allow himself to hope for the happy future they so desperately wanted.  “I want that so badly, sweetheart.”

        His head snapped up as a familiar voice sounded near the cabin and carried on the breeze across the lake.  Belle giggled and lifted her head to peer over her husband’s shoulder.  “Speaking of family.”

        Rumpelstiltskin sat up and turned to see his grandson smiling and waving enthusiastically from the back porch.  His hand lifted to return the greeting.  He smiled down at his wife, a small grin appearing at the corner of his thin lips.  “Would you mind a little …” He wiggled his fingers. “Just to get us to shore?”

        Belle shook her head and wrapped her arms about his neck.  “Not at all.”  She was more than used to travel by magic.  He’d never hesitated to simply transport her out of his sight when he became frustrated with her in the Dark Castle.  It felt almost strange that he was asking her permission.

        He magicked them to the shore where she’d left their clothes and reached for a towel to wrap around her shoulders.  Henry ran out to meet them before they’d made it halfway back to the cabin.  “Gram- Belle,” the boy stammered, casting a furtive glance at his grandfather.  And then his eyes lit with amazement to see him walking without the aid of his cane.  “Grandpa!  You’re not using your cane … er … does this mean –“

        “That I’m myself again?  Indeed, m’boy.  I –“ His words trailed into the ether as his grandson threw himself at him, startling a loud _oomph_ from his throat.  “Easy now.”

        “I’m so glad you’re ok, Grandpa,” Henry said, his eyes misty.  He glanced sheepishly at Belle.  “I know I wasn’t supposed to come out here, but I was worried when you didn’t answer any of my texts.  And I even got Granny to fix up some burgers … thought you might be hungry for some greasy food.  I know I’m starving and things at the house are a little strained and I thought you might not mind the company, and –“

        “Henry!” Belle huffed, chuckling softly.  “It’s fine, sweetheart.”

        Rumpelstiltskin urged them both back towards the cabin.  Belle was shivering and needed to change into something less revealing.  Yet instead of leaving them to shower and change, she donned her cover-up once more and settled at the patio table to dish up the to-go boxes containing their meal.

        Her husband raised a brow at her as she opened a ketchup packet and squirted it all over her fries.  “What?  I’m starved,” she said defensively.  “Tea and toast for breakfast will only go so far.”

        “So how did you get your memories back, Grandpa?” Henry asked around a mouthful of his burger.

        “Miss Swan simply said my name.”

        Belle groaned.  “I feel stupid for not trying it earlier, but I was afraid you’d think I’d lost my mind.”

        “Grandma, you could never be stupid,” Henry said with a roll of his eyes.

        Belle couldn’t help but think of the night she’d sent her husband across the town line.  “That’s debatable,” she mumbled.

        “And you still have magic,” Henry continued, attacking his fries with gusto.  You’d think he hadn’t eaten in a week.  “That’s awesome.”

        Rumpelstiltskin set his burger down and went into the cabin to fetch the pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator and three glasses.  Once he was seated again, he addressed the boy’s previous comment.  “Why are things strained at home?  What’ve I missed?”

        Henry shrugged, his dark-eyed gaze lowering to his plate as he swirled a fry in his ketchup.  “My moms aren’t having an easy time.  Emma is scared of what’s going to happen to her, Regina is testy and irate because she can’t figure out a way to travel to Camelot to find Merlin –“

        “Merlin?” Rumpelstiltskin asked, frowning darkly.  “The sorcerer?”  He cast a hot glance in his wife’s direction.  “Something you’d like to share, dearest?”

        “I wasn’t keeping it from you, Rum.  I just hadn’t gotten around to telling you yet.”  She huffed an irritated sigh.  “Is it too much to ask to be able to spend some time alone with you before you start plotting and scheming?  I admit it, ok … I’m a bit selfish when it comes to you, and frankly I’m tired of all the interruptions.”

        His lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he covered her hand with his and squeezed reassuringly.  “No, I don’t suppose it is,” he chuckled.  “Now tell me what’s this about Merlin?”

        Henry pushed his empty box aside and rubbed his belly.  “According to the apprentice, he said we would have to seek out the sorcerer in order to stop the darkness.  It was Merlin who tethered it to the first host and created the dagger curse in order to save the realms.  He’s the only one who can stop it, the only one who can save my mom.”

        “Then he should have stopped it long ago, before he created the curse and damned soul after soul to its evil,” he spat, his hand tightening over Belle’s.

        “Rumpel,” she said soothingly.  “If he had never created the curse, you wouldn’t have been able to save Bae when he was conscripted.  You never would have lived long enough to meet me …”

        “Gram and Gramps never would have found one another.  My mom would probably never have been born, and my dad would never have met her or had me.  The curse brought about so much evil, Grandpa, but there are some good things we can be grateful for,” Henry argued.

        “I’m also the one who turned Regina into a monster and trained Zelena to use her magic.  And we see how well that worked out,” he said bitterly, suppressing a shudder at the mention of his worst nightmare.

        “Rum … “

        Rumpelstiltskin shrugged, wondering if it had all been worth it.  Looking at his darling wife and his precious grandchild staring at him with such love in their eyes made him realize that yes, it had been worth the pain and misery he and all the Dark One’s former hosts had been put through.

        “When Emma came here last night, when the Dark One was in control, he said only you could open the portal to take us all to Camelot,” Belle said.  “He said, because of your control over him the past few centuries, and the way the curse was passed to Emma, his memories were skewed.”

        The mage sipped at his tea as he struggled with his desires.  If he opened the portal, he could be putting Henry and Belle in danger.  There was little chance they’d listen to him and remain behind in Storybrooke.  Belle had already vowed not to allow him out of her sight for the foreseeable future.  On the other hand, there was the prospect of ridding the realms of the Dark One, once and for all.

        “Rumpel, do you know how?  Or was the demon lying?” Belle asked.

        He sighed, caving under the hope he glimpsed in their eyes.  “No, he wasn’t lying, sweetheart.  I kept as much of myself as possible separate from him in the hopes that if I were somehow killed and the demon transferred to another, he couldn’t take my vast knowledge with him.  It was a flaw of the former hosts that they didn’t do the same.”

        Henry grinned.  “Does this mean we’re going to Camelot?”

        Rumpelstiltskin steepled his fingers beneath his chin and cursed silently.  “Yes, lad, I suppose we are.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope you all enjoyed!! One chapter left, which will be posted the last Friday before the premiere. I can’t tell you all how much I’ve enjoyed writing this fic :D Please leave a comment to let me know what you thought, and thank you all for reading.


	14. Chapter 14

 

        Regina pressed her head deeper into the pillows on the sofa and groaned, trying to hold onto the dream she’d been having.  It was one of those dreams that was so pleasant, waking seemed like a travesty.  It wasn’t the first time she’d dreamed of her happy ending, or what she believed was the closest she’d ever come to it.  Henry was happy, she was with Robin and her family was growing.  Her friendship with Emma was solid as they did their best to raise ‘their’ son together and she was even growing closer to Snow as she should have done years ago instead of stewing in hatred for the girl.  She smiled in her sleep, a warm arm slipping more securely around her waist and the delightful pressure of lips trailing over her collarbone.

        Desire flooded her being as a wet tongue trailed up the smooth ivory column of her throat and teeth nipped at the pulse point below her jaw.  She gasped, giving her lover the advantage as cool lips covered her own.  Her nerves tingled pleasantly as tongues dueled for dominance and Regina moaned as a slender thigh slipped between her own to press at her heated core.  Her fingers curled into the silk covering her lover’s torso, her need growing as she gave herself over to the pleasure coiling in her belly.

        “Robin …” she moaned as his hand slipped beneath her pajama top and covered her breast, his talented fingers squeezing gently.  She was more than pleased that he’d decided to join her downstairs after the trouble they’d had with Emma the night … before … SHIT!

        Regina’s eyes flew open as she pushed back to find Emma staring down at her with a wicked grin.  “Guess again, precious.”  The Dark One’s lilting giggle reverberated eerily against the walls of the parlor, sending a cold chill down the queen’s spine.  “Although if you guessed it was the little savior, you’d be wrong on that account too.”

        “Where’s Emma?”  Regina asked, struggling against the demon’s hold.  Even with the curse, she couldn’t fathom how the woman was capable of so much strength.  “The cuff is supposed to suppress you –“

        Growing tired of trying to claim the brunette’s mouth with her unwillingness to cooperate, the Dark One moved back to the tempting line of her throat., her free hand delving into Regina’s hair to tug her head back to grant her access.  “No, my queen,” she purred, “the cuff suppresses my magic, not me.  The little savior girl was exhausted, so now it’s my turn to play.”

        The darkness that still lived within the queen surged forth with its cloying power, responding to the Dark One’s velvety voice.  She moaned as Emma’s lips dipped lower in the valley between her breasts, her teeth pulling at the buttons on her top.  She grinned, one silver brow rising in challenge as she spit the button over the back of the sofa.  “Stop!” Regina protested, her hand rising as she called on an inner strength she didn’t know she possessed to magic the demon off of her.

        Emma caught her hand, folding her fingers over Regina’s to suppress the magic she would unleash.  “Tsk, tsk, tsk, precious.  Let’s not ruin this, shall we?”

        The queen’s lip curled back in a sneer as she glared at the demon inhabiting her friend.  “Let me up … _now!”_ she snarled, regaining some of her composure.  “Let me talk to Emma.”

        “Sorry, no can do,” the Dark One snarked in a sing song tone.  “I rather like the way you taste … spicy and dark.  Not as light as little Belle, but tempting enough.  Besides, the savior has feelings for youuuuu.” 

        Regina gasped, her eyes widening in alarm.  “What?!”

        Emma waggled her brows suggestively and pressed her advantage, plundering the queen’s mouth once more, what she lacked in finesse, she more than made up for it with over enthusiasm.

        “Bloody hellfire!”

        “Oh gods!”

        “Emma, what are you doing?!”

        The Dark One shrieked in outrage as strong arms wrapped about her waist and lifted her off of Regina.  She turned to glare at the man behind her, hate and outright fury burning in her emerald eyes.  “Oh, I should have known it’d be _you_ ,” she snarled.  “Get your filthy hands off of me, pirate!”  She turned her furious gaze on the savior’s parents next.  “Ah, and the sickeningly sweet do-gooder heroes.  I may be sick.”

        “What the hell is going on?” Robin asked as he moved to Regina’s side and pulled her trembling body into his arms.  “Are you alright?”

        “I’m fine, but the Dark One is a horny bastard,” she hissed, nodding at Killian to let Emma go.  She couldn’t sympathize with his hangdog expression at the moment.  “Well at least now we know the cuff won’t suppress the demon … only the magic.”

        David inched closer to his daughter, eyeing her curiously.  “So the Dark One is fully in control?”

        “Sod off, shepherd!”

        “Let us talk to Emma, demon,” Killian demanded in a low tone, barely able to hold onto his anger at finding her in the arms of the queen.  “We’ve had just about enough from the likes of you.”

        “Can’t we just command it … her … the Dark One … with the dagger?” Snow asked, looking to Regina for her opinion.

        “That’s not part of our deal, snowflake,” Emma hissed, edging closer to Regina.  “My queen promised to keep the blade locked up until we left for Camelot and you know I won’t tolerate being controlled again.”

        Regina glared at them all.  “Enough!  I have my children to worry about right now and I’m in no mood for this crap first thing in the morning.”  She left them all there in the parlor and sought out the solace of her kitchen, her hands still trembling as she reached for the griddle and set it on the stove.  The Dark One was confined to the house, so she shouldn’t have to worry about any more of her tricks – at least until after breakfast – and the Charmings and Killian should be able to keep her occupied.

        She started as a pair of strong arms slipped about her waist.  “Are you alright, m’lady?” Robin asked, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

        Regina sagged wearily against his chest and turned her head so she could press her face to her love’s neck.  “I told you, I’m fine,” she said with a sniff, comfortable enough to allow him to see her vulnerable side.  “I’m just not sure how much more of this I’m going to be able to handle.”

        “We just have to manage a little longer.  Perhaps the Dark One will remember how to open the portal and we won’t need Rumpelstiltskin,” he offered lamely.

        “I wouldn’t hold my breath.”  She moved out of Robin’s comforting embrace and went about gathering ingredients for pancakes.  There was no time to dwell on what the demon had already told her.  It was no doubt a bunch of vicious lies he’d conjured simply to throw her off.  Emma didn’t have any feelings for her … not that way at least.  She suppressed the shiver which wanted to break out over her form, wondering if maybe she had feelings of her own.  She slammed the bowl on the counter with more force than necessary, glaring at the object of her distress as she slithered onto one of the stools at the island.  “Don’t you have something you could be doing?”

        The Dark One shook her head, her platinum locks falling about her shoulders in waves.  “Not especially,” she shrugged.  She frowned at the bowl of apples set in the center of the island, her nose wrinkling.  “Don’t we have any peaches?  Why is it always apples with you?”

        Regina glared at her as she continued to stir the batter.  “I don’t like peaches.”

        “I think I’ll go see about the boys,” Robin offered.  “Are you going to be –“

        “Fine!” the women said in unison.

        The outlaw raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and backed out of the room, nearly running into Killian as he came in.  He cast a longing gaze at Emma as he skulked over to the refrigerator and retrieved the pitcher of orange juice.  Emma growled low in her throat as he took a seat beside her.  “You might want to cover that up, cur, before you begin shedding all over the place,” she snarled, gesturing to his chest where his robe gaped.  “I’ll never understand what the savior sees in you.”

        “She happens to love me!”

        “Pfft!”

        Regina turned her back on them and added batter to the griddle.  “Emma, you promised to behave.”

        “Yes, my queen, but I made no such bargain,” the Dark One grinned.

        “Hey, mom, what’s for breakfast, I’m starved and Grandpa didn’t want to stop at the diner for donuts,” Henry said as he swept into the kitchen.

        “Lad, weren’t you wearing that yesterday?” Killian asked, arching a brow at the boy.

        Henry frowned.  “Yeah, Ma said I could spend the night with Grandpa at the cabin last … She wasn’t really Ma was she?” He asked, casting his confused brown eyes at Regina who shook her head no.  “It doesn’t matter though because –“

        “Good morning, m’dear,” Rumpelstiltskin said from the doorway, Belle’s hand clasped securely in his left. 

        “Rumpel,” she breathed, more than a little surprised to see him in her kitchen.  “What –“

        He released Belle’s hand long enough to send a tiny burst of magic across the room to flip her charred pancakes.  Henry beamed at his mother.  “Grandpa has his magic back … er … sort of”

        “Thank the gods!” Regina said, leaning heavily against the center island.

        “I wouldn’t get excited just yet, dearie.  There are a few matters we need to discuss first.  A deal, if you will,” the mage smirked, helping Belle onto a stool next to Killian.

        The pirate snorted as Regina set a plate of pancakes in front of him with a small bowl of mixed fruit from the container she pulled from the fridge.  “See you haven’t lost _all_ of your darkness, eh, Crocodile?” he sneered.

        Belle reached over and smacked him in the back of the head.  “Not another word, Killian,” she hissed in a menacing tone, giving him no doubt that she wasn’t happy to be there.

        The Dark One slinked off of her stool to greet Belle properly, but Rumpelstiltskin blocked her with his cane.  “That’s far enough,” he warned.  “Let’s set you to rights, shall we?”  He hooked his cane over his right arm and stepped closer to her, trapping her gaze with his own as he cradled her face in his palms.  “Emma,” he breathed.  Her eyes shifted focus, becoming glassy as she slipped out of his hands.  She would have fallen if Killian hadn’t caught her in his arms and gently lowered her to the stool he’d vacated.

        “You’re going to have to do better with your control, dearie.”

        Emma moaned, swaying slightly in her seat.  “Ugh!  My head feels like someone took a chipping hammer to it.”

        “Are you alright, love?” Killian asked as she threw her arms around him and burrowed against his chest.

        “I am now.  What happened?” she asked, eyeing the uncomfortable looks passing between the others.  “Oh gods, what did I do this time?”

        Regina plated more pancakes on a large platter and set them in the center of the island as she avoided Emma’s gaze.  “We’ll talk about it later,” she mumbled.  Roland came in with Robin and wrapped his arms around her waist, making her feel a bit better.  “Good morning, sweetheart, did you sleep well?”

        “Yes ma’am,” he chirped, releasing her to climb onto his stool.  “G’mornin’, Miss Belle.”

        “Good morning to you too, Roland,” Belle replied with a bright smile for the boy.  Robin went about making his son’s plate as Regina led the others to the parlor.  Killian abandoned his breakfast in favor of taking Emma upstairs in search of some aspirin for her headache and Snow and Charming sat on the sofa with baby Neal between them cooing softly.

        David nodded uneasily at the mage.  “Gold.”

        “Shepherd,” the sorcerer returned.  “Well, it seems the gang’s all here.  Now to business.”

        “Wait, you got your memories back?” Snow asked, her brows raised in askance.

        “Does this mean you’ll help us?” the prince added.

        “That is entirely up to you,” Belle said, leveling them all with a meaningful look.

        “What is it you want, Rumpel?” Regina asked, pacing back and forth behind the sofa.  “What is your price?”

        “You are first going to apologize to my wife for that stunt you pulled at the well,” he said through tightly clenched teeth.  “Then after we’ve completed this task to rid Miss Swan of the Dark One, I want peace.  I want to be able to run my business without any interference from the lot of you.  I want to be able to take an easy breath without you running to me for a magical solution to all your problems …”

        “In other words,” Belle interrupted, “he’s asking you all to just leave us alone.  Except you, Henry.  You’re more than welcome anytime at the shop, the cabin or the house”

        “I don’t care,” Snow said.  “I’d be willing to do anything to get that demon out of my daughter before it makes her do something she’s going to regret.  She’s not herself and it’s killing me that I can’t help her.”

        Belle braced her hands on her hips and glared angrily at her.  “So, what you’re saying is that Emma can’t be held responsible for her actions while hosting the Dark One?”

        “Well … yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

        “You’re a bloody hypocrite, Snow White,” Belle spat.

        “Belle –“ Rumpelstiltskin said quietly, knowing it was pointless to try to reign in her temper, but trying nonetheless.

        “No, Rumpel,” she objected most strenuously, her eyes flashing fire.  “They have blamed you for every sordid thing you’ve ever done, but the moment Emma acts out of character and does something dark, it’s ok because she’s possessed by the Dark One.  Hypocrites, all.”

        Snow and David had the decency to look ashamed.  Regina regarded her with new respect.  “I apologize, Belle, for taking your heart and using you against your husband.  I am truly sorry.”

        The queen didn’t fool her former master for a moment, but she’d done what he’d asked.  “Know this, your majesty.  If you ever touch my wife again, I will not hesitate to kill you.  I may not be the Dark One anymore, but I will protect me and mine.  Am I making myself clear, dearie?”

        “Crystal,” she snarked, having no other choice but to agree if they were going to save Emma.

        “Then we have a deal.  Be at the cottage on the hill in two hours.  Belle and I need to collect our things and I’m sure you all have your own arrangements to make.”

 

~*X*~

 

        Belle grumbled angrily to herself as she moved about the shop, searching out the items on her husband’s list.  She was still fuming over the entire scene at Regina’s, and thankfully he let her vent without interruption.  Bloody hypocrites, she seethed.  Let’s just blame it on the Dark One … everything is his fault.  “Of course their daughter couldn’t have any darkness in her heart.  She’s a bloody perfect princess,” she hissed, slamming the rucksack onto the glass display case and shoving several pairs of clean underwear into the bottom.  She knew Rumpelstiltskin planned to dress them in period garb so they wouldn’t stand out, but she had insisted on retrieving her own unmentionables from their home.

        Warm hands trailed over her arms and wrapped about her wrists, bringing them up to criss-cross over her chest as her husband pulled her back to rest against his chest.  “Sweetheart, you’re working yourself up into a right fine state.  You need to relax,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear.  “Please … for me?”

        “It’s always the same, Rumpel, and I can’t stand it.  They judge you, they look down on you as if you’re not good enough to be in the same room with them, they talk about you behind your back.  I’d like to see them survive three centuries with the Dark One riding their back like a bitch in heat,” she growled.  “But it’s ok, their precious Emma isn’t responsible for her actions.  The big bad Dark One made her do it.”

        “Belle …” He breathed her name with all the reverence of a goddess, his heart swelling with love for her.  “My beautiful wife.  Only you can see past what I am to the man beneath.  I’ve more than earned my reputation, dearest, and no amount of wishing will ever have anyone knocking down my door to be my friend.”

        She snorted.  “They do plenty of knocking, darling.”

        “And you always ask – so sweetly, I might add – that I help them with their little crises.”

        “The shop is hereby closed,” she said petulantly, pursing her lips into a small moue of disdain.  “We’re not helping them anymore if they can’t show you a modicum of respect.”

        He chuckled lowly as he nuzzled against her nape, drawing strength from her as he always did when he held her in his arms.  “You’ve changed, my Belle.”

        “No, I’ve opened my eyes to see them for who they really are,” she fumed, her anger refusing to leave her.  “No one can claim to be a hero when their actions walk the fine line between what is right and what is easy.  They don’t care who they hurt as long as the end result benefits them.  How is that so different from what you did in your quest to find Bae or your machinations to cleave yourself from the dagger?  Look at what Snow and David did to change Emma’s fate and how it affected Lily and Mal.”

        “And they have to live with their mistakes every day, Belle.  We all do.  Hopefully, we can learn from them so as not to repeat them.”  He turned her in his arms and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.  “The Charmings did what they did to protect their daughter.  I maneuvered the queen into casting the curse for purely selfish reasons, I used the hat … again for selfish reasons.”

        Her eyes narrowed dangerously.  “You did it to find Bae!” she protested heatedly.  “You used the hat in an effort to save yourself!”

        “For _me_ , Belle.  I didn’t care who got hurt in the process.  I tore apart realms to get here and I just didn’t care who I hurt,” he said, admitting it for the first time.

        “If I could forgive you, why can’t you forgive yourself?  I don’t care what you say, Rumpelstiltskin, I will never believe you’re a truly selfish man wreathed in darkness.  You did it to find Bae, because you loved him so much, because you needed to be sure he was safe, so you could ask his forgiveness.  That hope is what kept you from completely giving in to your darkness long ago.  And I understand why you wanted to cleave yourself from the dagger … you just should have gone about it differently.”  She sighed and leaned into his embrace, hugging him tightly.  “Despite what you say, Rum, I would still rather have your love and protection than the friendship of the so-called heroes of this town.”

        “I’m yours, Belle, for as long as you’ll have me.”

        She leaned up on her toes and kissed him, smiling against his lips as she let go of her anger and basked in the love of her husband.  “Forever is a long time, darling.  I hope you don’t get bored.”

        “Aye, sweetheart, but that’s how long I’ll love you.”  He pressed his brow to hers, nuzzling her nose with his own.  “I can’t promise I won’t do things to upset you.  I’m still a man who will do anything to protect those I love without care for the consequences.”

        Belle sighed, her eyes sparkling up at him.  “Nobody’s perfect.”

 

~*X*~

 

        Emma frowned down at her gray muslin gown, the fabric shot through with silver thread and then arched a brow in Regina’s direction.  “I’m thinking I should have asked Gold to dress me.  Why does Belle get to wear leather and I’m stuck with this bit of fluff?” she complained.

        Belle stood next to her husband beside the large ornate door in the center of the ballroom where they’d danced together on their honeymoon and rolled her eyes.  She had to admit she looked good in the black leather pants and tall boots which sheathed her slender legs.  The royal blue silk shirt and midnight brocade waistcoat clung to her curves and the black leather coat which ended mid-thigh would keep her warm.  He’d insisted she have a dagger and short sword to complete her attire and she was thankful she knew how to use them after her adventures with the Yaoguai.

        Regina glanced down at her own deep red velvet gown and shrugged.  “I was trying to dress us for the part we’ll no doubt have to play when we arrive at Arthur’s court.”  She frowned at Rumpelstiltskin.  “I take it the two of you have other plans?”

        He smirked unrepentantly.  “I thought I’d leave court intrigues to you, dearie.  Belle and I will blend with the masses to seek out the information we need should you fail to glean Merlin’s whereabouts from Arthur.”  His own leather pants and coat squeaked as he moved to open the door.

        “How can we be sure this door will even take us to Camelot?” Killian asked, Emma’s hand clasped tightly in his.  Snow and Charming stood next to them.

        Henry rolled his eyes.  “Because Grandpa said so,” he snarked, moving to stand next to Belle, his rucksack over his shoulder.

        The sorcerer smiled at his grandson in approval.  There had been no talking the boy out of coming along.  Roland had been left with Will and the rest of Robin’s merry men and Neal was in Granny’s care for the duration of their quest.  Rumpelstiltskin would have rathered some of them stay behind, but he’d been outvoted.  His main concern was his wife and grandson.  The others were pretty much on their own.

        “Miss Swan, if you will give me but a moment?” the mage beckoned her forward.  Killian reluctantly let go of her.  He met her gaze, his dark sable eyes studying her carefully.  “I’m going to remove the cuff.  You must prepare yourself, dearie.  The Dark One is threatened and he will respond in kind.  He will do everything in his power to darken your heart and bend you to his will.  You _must_ remain vigilant.”

        “I will,” Emma promised.

        With a flick of his wrist, the cuff vanished and Emma swayed unsteadily on her feet.  Rumpelstiltskin’s hand wrapped loosely about her throat as he pulled her close, his teeth bared as he stared into her emerald eyes.  “Don’t test me,” he snarled, speaking directly to the demon.  “I know your tricks and I know how to deal with you should you step out of line.”

        Both Killian and David stepped forward to protest, but Rumpel held up a hand to ward them off.

        “Remember my words, dearie, for they won’t be repeated.  This is your only warning.”

        Emma sucked in a sharp breath as she gained control over herself.  “I’m okay, Gold.  Really.”

        “Then let us begin.”

        Killian wrapped his arm around Emma’s waist and they disappeared through the portal, followed closely by Snow and Charming and then Robin and Regina.  Henry winked at his grandparents and cast them a gamine-like grin before he too stepped through, leaving Rumpelstiltskin offering his arm to his wife.

        “Rum, wait.”

        “What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, wondering what was wrong.  She couldn’t have changed her mind after insisting so adamantly about tagging along.

        “Merlin … he can open any portal to any realm, can’t he?” she asked, her gaze swinging between her husband and the open portal.

        “I would assume so.”

        “After … um … after we’ve helped Emma and the Dark One is destroyed once and for all … can we go home?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears as she gazed up at him hopefully.  “Not to Storybrooke.  I want to go _home_.”

        “To the Dark Castle,” he murmured in stunned disbelief.  “Why?”

        “I want to return to where it all began, Rumpel.  It’s our home – our _real_ home.  It’s where we fell in love, where we came to know one another, where we were even happy for a time.  I want that again.  I want to raise … I want to raise our children there.”

        “Oh, Belle …” he croaked hoarsely, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her hair.

        “It would be a new beginning for us, Rum.  No false friends, no magical emergencies, no evil witches … just us and our children?”

        Tears glistened in his own eyes as he cradled her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers in a lingering kiss.  “I’d like that, my love.  If we succeed in finding him, we’ll ask.  All he can do is say no.”

        “I love you, Rumpelstiltskin.”

        “I love you, too, Belle.”

        There was nothing more which needed to be said as he clasped her hand tightly in his and stepped through the portal.  Amidst all the turmoil of three centuries, he’d finally found a love so deep and profound, he didn’t need anything else.  It left no room for doubt.  He believed now … he believed in her love … _their_ love, and he would endeavor to spend his life showing her in every way he could.  She was his hope, his future and together they would spend their forever learning to love again and again.

 

 

**The End** **…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m sitting here fucking crying because it’s over. *sob* This has been an emotional rollercoaster for me. I know you probably are sitting there going ‘No! She can’t end it like this!’ but yeah this is it. I wanted to leave it open and let the show deal with all the Camelot crap. Can you tell I’m not excited about it? Claire, darling, the sorta SwanQueen in this chapter was all for you :D I had to do my best to repair their relationship. That is what this fic was all about. I hope you enjoyed it and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for going on this journey with me. Love and hugs to you all, my dear readers. Until next time … xoxoxo


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